Roman Holiday
by apodiform
Summary: What if Meredith had really taken that trip to Europe before medical school?  And what if while on that trip she met an Italian Duke called Derek?  MerDer with other GA characters thrown in. FINISHED
1. Chapter 1

**This is a story I wrote earlier in the year as my ode to summer love. The idea started with what if Meredith really had taken that European trip she was supposed to have taken before medical school? And what if instead of just a neurosurgeon, Derek was Italian royalty? Far fetched I know, but oh so much fun to write. Other characters from GA will make an appearance, but this is mainly a Meredith and Derek fic. So sit back, relax, and take a Roman Holiday...**

**And of course I don't own Grey's Anatomy. If I did, I would be living in Italy instead of writing about it!**_  
_

_Once upon a time, in a land far, far away…._

Well, actually it's happening right now. Or right now in fanfic land. That's beside the point though. And Italy really isn't that far away, only a six hour trip from New York. Granted, six hours on a plane is a very very long time when you're squished into sardine cans, but we can let that slide for now.

_There lived a handsome prince called Derek._

Except, technically, he really wasn't a prince. Italy had "officially" dismantled the monarchy back in 1946. That didn't stop his father from labeling himself the Duke of Savoy or from Derek from being known as Prince Derek in all the tabloids though. So more of an honorary Princedom, but a princedom none the less.

He was certainly handsome though. He had this wavy almost raven hair that men or women would die for, these piercing blue eyes that could express every emotion under the sun, especially the naughty ones. But just like every handsome prince that was raised to know he is a prince, he knows he's handsome and he knows he's royalty, so watch out girls. Especially if he starts leaning. Just get ready to have your knees go weak and the ground underneath you to feel a little unsteady if you are lucky enough to see his hip parked up against anything. Trust me.

One important thing to note is that this prince doesn't consider "Prince" to be his main occupation in life. He had a thriving neurosurgery practice in New York up until his father's death a few short months ago. He had never even been to Italy before 2002, the royal family having been banned from setting foot in the country until then. He has spent the last couple of months touring his adopted country, learning his heritage and literally sowing his royal oats.

For his father's dying wish had been for him to honor his long-standing betrothal to his childhood friend: Addison Forbes Montgomery. Their families having been friends since either of them could remember. The Forbes the closest you could get to royalty in American society. It had always been understood that they would get married someday, so he had made it official a couple of years ago. They had not set a date though and somehow new hurdles always had seemed to get in their way.

But now his father had died and the wedding was set for this Sunday at Villa D'este. Addie was probably there now ordering everyone around and generally freaking out. He had let her plan everything, his only request being he wanted to have nothing to do with it. He knew when they returned to New York it would all be about "Derek and Addison" and their new life together, so he was taking this week for himself. He was going to enjoy his last week of bachelorhood as a normal citizen: touring the sites and generally just enjoying his last moments of freedom.

So we join our hero as he lays sprawled out on one of the most famous tourist attractions in all of Italy: The Spanish steps. He lies almost at the top of the first tier, directly in the center, soaking up the early morning rays. It is still semi-early, so a chill still clings to the cold stone. The sun has just managed to rise above the opposing buildings, sending the first warm rays onto his skin.

The hot Italian sun is very potent though and he soon finds himself no longer needing his brown leather jacket. He takes it off to reveal a very quintessential Italian outfit: tan khaki linen pants, white short-sleeved linen button-down shirt, and a pair of brown leather penny loafers. He bundles said jacket into a little ball, places his head upon it as a pillow, and is just about to close his eyes in heavenly bliss, when he's interrupted by a very loud and very distinctive feminine, "Shit."

_Now, into this land of far, far away came a beautiful princess named Meredith_

We've established that far, far away is Italy, right? Right. Well, she's not a princess in the conventional sense of the word. But as her best friend, Christina Yang, would say, royally inbred. Get that disgusting look off of your face, that means her parents are doctors. And not just any doctors, a world-famous doctor: Ellis Grey.

She is very beautiful in a very ethereal and very princess-like way. She has a very petite frame, flowing honey blonde hair, and striking cat-like green eyes that give her a damsel in distress-like appearance. Don't think you can pinch her cheeks or stream-roll your way over her though. Hiding behind that dainty visage is one tough broad armed with a caustic wit and some pretty effective in-effectual fists.

_Who has escaped from the clutches of her evil step-mother._

Oh, how she wishes that woman was no blood relation of hers. But in fact, it was her own mother's constant recriminations and ever-present disappointments that had sent her on this ill-fated trip. All she wanted to do was have a week away from the harpy and get some perspective on her life. Perspective that had not been achieved by spending the entire flight stuck between a 300 pound man who needed to stock up on deodorant and a woman whose abnormally wide elbows kept jabbing her in the side. Just because she was tiny didn't mean she didn't need ANY room.

So after an entire night of not sleeping, she landed at the airport and made her way over to the American Express office, only to discover that her traveler's checks were useless until tomorrow (There should be a very large disclaimer on the bottom of traveler's checks that American Express is not open every day. In her case, this happened to coincide with the day of her arrival: Monday. Seriously? Banks in this country were closed on Mondays? Seriously?).

Which is how she found herself looking over the Piazza di Spagna (being where said American Express office is located) tired, drawn, cranky, and lacking all but the most basic of Euros . All she wanted to do was find her hotel and sleep until this never-ending horror of a day could be over. But no, God hated her. Because where not two seconds before the directions to her hotel were right here in her bag, they seem to have magically disappeared into the black hole that was her purse.

She plops down, totally unaware of her surroundings, and lets out a small explicative.

"It's too early in the morning for a bella like you to have such a wicked frown on your face." She hears a man call out to her from her right.

She isn't about to encourage any strange men in foreign countries, so she keeps her head down and keeps rummaging through her bag.

"Are you ignoring me?" She soon hears. Apparently, he did not get the hint.

She pauses in her rummaging to take a quick look at said interloper and is shocked to find one of the most strikingly handsome men she has probably ever seen smiling at her not two feet away. No, smiling isn't the exact word. Twinkling would be a better description. Yes, twinkling. Twinkling at her as his body lays sprawled out on the steps like a man-candy buffet. Oh, she was definitely not talking to him now.

"Um…trying to." She tells him dampeningly, perusing her purse in one last desperate search for the missing document.

"You shouldn't ignore me." The man tries again, clearly not deterred in the least by her less than welcoming attitude.

"Why not?" She can't help but respond back, meeting his twinkle with a few seconds of her own dazzling smile before she turns back to her purse.

"Because I'm someone you need to get to know to love." He zings back, half-joking but half-serious at the same time.

This certainly gets her attention. "So if I know you I'll love you?" She counters, for the first time giving him her full attention, raised eyebrows and all.

"Well…that would be for you to decide." He shrugs self-deprecatingly, but his eyes tell a different story. They say just try it out for a second. They say I know you'll love me. They say I'm good-looking and I know it.

She doesn't have time for this. She has to find her hotel. The piece of paper with the address and directions of her hotel has clearly gone missing, which is where her mind must have gone to misplace such an important document. Mr. Uber-sexy is clearly waiting for an answer from her, but all she does is drop her clearly useless bag on the step in front of her and drop her head in her hands.

"Oh, hey, I was just kidding." The man says, sitting up in agitation and for the first time sounding like a normal human being.

"It's not you." She says without raising her head from her hands, but sensing the earnestness of his concern.

"Well, it's too early in the morning for me to interpret girl flip out. So you tell me what the problem is, and I'll tell you how to fix it." He offers, the initial arrogance returning and, if at all possible, growing by leaps and bounds.

She raises the fingers from her face just enough to assess whether this man may actually be able to help her. She looks over to find him boyishly staring back at her, his arms now wrapped around his legs, his eyes willing her to confide in him.

Well, it was worth a shot. "I have not slept in 24 hours because all airlines have apparently decided to convert to munchkin-land only seating, I have no money because I decided to land on the only day that American Express is not open, and now apparently I have no hotel because the piece of paper that the address was on has decided to make a run for it and has absconded from my bag." Meredith rants, placing her immediate concerns and discomforts before him.

Instead of looking taken aback, or even a little freaked out, as she had secretly hoped he might, he looks…like he's about to laugh. She's about to huff off in righteous indignation, when he pulls himself together and tries to look serious.

"Well, I cannot go back in time, so the first issue we'll just have to put behind us." He starts off, rejecting that problem as insubstantial.

"The second, I would offer, but would only probably be met with a resounding rejection." He concludes, looking to her for confirmation and nodding knowingly when she grudgingly nods her head in agreement.

"But the third…" He says as he rubs his chin in thought, "The third I may be able to do something about. Do you know the name of the Hotel?"

"Villa de Roma, or some such thing." She says, a small amount of hope starting to make its way into her heart for the first time that morning.

"Well, I don't know where that is, but I do know someone who might." He offers, but then adds, "But it comes with one condition."

Suddenly suspicious, she narrows her eyes at him and hesitantly asks, "What condition?"

"That you join me for an espresso. It's the least you can do after so rudely interrupting my sun bath." He cajoles, breaking out the twinkling and the….dreaminess, yes the dreaminess, once more to entice her into having a cup of coffee with him.

She takes an assessing look at him. Usually arrogance turns her off big time, but on him it just seems to fit. He has offered to help her with her hotel, and she does desperately need some caffeine. She would never knowingly go somewhere in a foreign country with a perfect stranger, but something tells her there is nothing to worry about from this man. And it will be in a public place.

And for some reason, she would like to find out more about him. He lies so casually on the steps, yet something tells her there's nothing casual about him at all. He comes across as arrogant and narcissistic, and yet there's a blanket vulnerability in his eyes. He is a mystery wrapped up in an enigma. And it's only a cup of coffee. It's not like she was going to fall in love with him or anything.

"One cup." She agrees, firmly stating her single condition.

"Deal." He answers a little too easily, standing up to offer her his hand.

She looks at said hand dazedly for a second until she realizes he is offering to help her up. She takes his hand and immediately a zing of electricity passes from his hand to hers, seeming to electrify the air around them. As soon as she's standing, she drops his hand as fast as she can. But as they make their way down the legion of steps, she has to shake it to rid it of the little bursts of current that still linger.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ah, Chapter 2. What can I say about Chapter 2? Oh, I must tell you that the part about American Express not being open on Mondays? Absolutely true. It happened to me. Flew across an ocean, only to discover that I didn't have any money until the next day. In fact, everywhere that Meredith and Derek go in Rome I have been to. Just reading this again makes me nostalgic to go there again. sigh.**

He doesn't know why he felt compelled to flirt with a perfect stranger on the steps of the Piazza de Spagna. He certainly shouldn't be flirting with anyone, never mind someone who clearly hadn't wanted anything to do with him. But something about this grumpy little person with frazzled honey-blonde hair and a tiny little frame amuses him, calls to him, and makes him want to spend just a little more time with her.

He certainly had been paying his own mind, eyes closed even, when she had rudely disrupted his alone time. He would have never even known she was there if she hadn't let out that cute little explicative. And when he had opened his eyes, she had looked so cutely disgruntled that he couldn't help at least trying to make her feel better.

His admiration of her had shot up about ten degrees though when she had plainly ignored him. Normally it would have galled him to no end. He wasn't used to being ignored by anyone, especially a beautiful woman. But when she had turned that dazzling smile his way, he would have forgiven her anything. He honestly couldn't say what he had said after that because he had been totally captivated by her. The way her eyes looked green and luminous one minute and blue the next. The way she covered up her vulnerabilities with brashness and prickliness. But if you truly wanted to see what was going on within her, you just had to stare into those cool depths. Disconcerting, to say the least.

So by the time she had dropped her hands into her lap and given out one of the hugest sighs he had ever heard, he was a goner. Then she had given him the most wonderful thing ever: an in. She didn't know where her hotel was. He didn't know where it was either, but he was certainly going to find someone who did. There was a certain someone. It didn't matter. As long as he got to spend a little more time with this fascinating creature. It was just an espresso after all, right?

"So, we need to take the Metro." He says as they descend the last of the steps, and he starts to veer left toward the station.

She comes to a quick stop though and stares at him suspiciously. "Wow, wow, you didn't say anything about the Metro."

He just loves the way she stands there with her hands on her hips, actually thinking her little act will deter him from getting her to do what he wants. "Well, my friend is at the Capitolino. We could walk there but it might be time for an aperitif rather than an espresso by the time we get there." He argues reasonably at the same time projecting a little bit of the boyish charm he knows he possesses.

"Fine." She agrees reluctantly and they continue to walk along the square.

They walk companionably for a few minutes, neither saying a word, when he suddenly realizes that she has no luggage.

"Did you leave your luggage in one of the lockers?" He asks as they pass into the mouth of the metro station.

She looks down, as if to check that no she does not have her luggage, and then does the cutest thing he has ever seen: she blushes. "Oh no." She sputters as the blush continues to grow. "I left in kind of a hurry."

He is momentarily shocked to realize that someone made an entire trip to Europe without an ounce of luggage. No change of underwear? She'd probably slap him if he asked her that though. Addie would have died without her complete Louis Vitton matched set, hand bag and all. This woman had what he would consider a stylish knap-sack and seemed unfazed. This was getting more interesting by the second!

"Must have been some hurry." He half mumbles to himself, but it rewarded by her giving him an impish half-smile.

They come upon the ticketed turnstiles, and he quickly punches two metro tickets before she can say anything. He can tell she wants to say something, but he pretends to not notice her discomfiture and blithely leads them on. They push their way into the crowd, but he makes sure to keep a close eye on her as they are pushed along onto the train by the teaming masses. She looks so bewildered by it all, but covers it all with a cool demeanor.

"So what's your story then?" He asks as they come to some semblance of resting. The train is so full that he finds himself almost pushed up against her. He can even smell some kind of flower scent coming from her hair as the train jostles them onward to their destination.

"I don't have a story." She responds vaguely, but with a beguiling smile.

"Oh, so you travel across entire oceans without changes of clothing all of the time. I see, boring ole me. I would be desperate without a clean pair of socks." He teases as he tries to pry some information out of her.

She laughs a little at his obvious attempt at a joke, but only responds, "I'm just a girl on vacation. Here to see the sights and all that jazz. What about you?"

What about him? Oh crap. What is he supposed to tell her? Oh yes, I'm just on my last week of freedom before I settle down into a life of marital and princely duties. She'd bolt so fast his head would probably spin.

"Oh, just a guy on vacation myself. The sites and all that jazz." He repeats with a sparkling smile. Technically, it's the truth. Well, kind of.

He can tell she isn't entirely satisfied with his answer, but she lets it slide for now. He turns to watch what station they are coming to, when she announces, "Actually, I was hoping to buy some clothes while I was here. Would you have any recommendations?"

He looks down to asses what clothes she has on and an unbidden thought of 'what about nothing on at all?' pops into his head. Bad Derek, bad. He clears his throat and tries to cover his sudden uncomfortableness with, "Well, this season's mauve sundress would be just the thing for you. I would have gotten one myself, but it didn't go with my skin tone."

"You are no help." She reprimands, but with a little giggle that about sets his heart to stopping in his chest.

"Fine, if you don't want my help, I can understand." He says as he fakes deep hurt. What he's really trying to do is fool himself into thinking that strange little flip in his chest didn't just happen.

He looks around in relief to see that they have reached their stop. They push their way through the mounds of people and find it hard to speak as they are shuttled up the terminal and finally out into the welcome sunshine.

They come out behind the Monumento a Vittorio Emanuele II, and he introduces it to her as, "This is Monument to Vittorio Emmanual, the first unified king of Italy."

"Italy didn't have kings?" She asks in confusion, clearly not a history buff.

"Oh no, Italy was originally a series of city-states that got taken over by some empire after another. It wasn't until this guy, Vittorio Emmanual," He says as he points to the monument, "beat up some other guy in 1861 that Italy became a unified country. It only lasted about 50 years though. The citizens of Rome voted to make Italy a republic in 1946 and the royal family was forced to leave the country." Information that had beaten into him before he could even take solid food.

"Fascinating." Meredith comments as they make their way around said monument and onto the Via dei fori imperiali. She's too caught up in perusing the building to notice the pensive frown marring his features.

His frown gets turned upside down though when he hears a very loud "Duca" from just the person he was hoping to see shouted from across the street.

* * *

Okay, she was certifiably crazy. Here she was traipsing after a complete stranger that told her he "knew" someone who knew where her hotel was. Only a few people even knew where she was. He could be a serial killer for all she knew. A sexy serial killer, but a serial killer none the less. She was going meet this friend of his, have an espresso with him, and then she was going to get as far from him as possible. Yep, that was the plan. 

For more than one reason: he made her weak at the knees. She had been holding it together admirably on the METRO, at least she liked to think so, when she could have sworn she saw him smell her hair. He had been very nice so far though, paying for her metro ticket, leading her through the crowds, and generally just being very charming and fun to be with. It was just dangerous how charming he was though. One little twinkle of his eye and she felt herself willing to do whatever he wanted. That was so not good. She was here to get perspective, not fall victim to a little twinkling. She blamed it on her lack of sleep. Yeah, that was it. As soon as she got some caffeine in her and could think straight again, she'd put up more a fight. Yep.

She was half-listening to Derek explain about the kings of Italy, wondering just how much longer it would be before she got some espresso, when she heard someone yell, "Duca" from across the street. She would have just kept on walking if Derek hadn't gotten the hugest grin on his face and called back jovially, "Richard!"

She looks across the street to see a very smiling and very happy older black man bounding toward them, apparently just having come out of some café on the other side of the street. He's a little taller than Derek and has a larger frame than him, but he is anything but imposing. He has the hugest grin on his face, obviously very happy to see Derek. Both men smile at each other as only very good acquaintances can do, Richard kissing Derek on both cheeks, European style, and patting Derek on the back all at once.

"I didn't expect to see you this week!" Richard greets Derek jovially, and then after a second adds, "Flown the coupe, have you?"

Derek chuckles knowingly, but then says meaningfully while staring at Meredith, "Yes, my MOTHER and SISTERS were driving me crazy. I thought I'd get out and see some of the sites."

"Ah, yes." Richard says confusedly as he looks over to see Meredith for the first time. Suddenly, his face breaks out into a huge grin and he is way too happy to see her too. "You naughty boy, you." He says as he ribs Derek in the chest, then turns to Meredith and says, "So how long have you know our Duca here?"

"Oh, only about an hour." She says playfully, this man's joviality rubbing off on her. "I've lost the address for my hotel and he is being nice enough to help me find it."

"Oh, so that's what he told you." Richard says with a side-ways glance at Derek. Derek gives him a look that says he has no idea what Richard it talking about, but Richard is having none of it. Richard turns back to Meredith and says, "Let me guess. He's making you have an espresso with him?"

Meredith looks over to find Derek almost blushing. She likes this guy more and more by the second. "He said I owed it to him after I woke him up from his sun bath." Meredith confides conspiratorially.

At this, Richard shakes his head and tsks at Derek. He places his arm over Meredith's shoulder and starts leading her away from Derek. Normally, she would have a problem with strange guys taking her by the shoulder. But she likes how this guy ribs on Derek and he seems about as harmless as an overgrown teddy bear.

As they walk across the street, Richard asks her knowingly, "Sitting on the steps, was he?" Richard goes so far to even shoot Derek a wink, who has joined them on her right.

"What can I say? I like the steps." Derek answers non-commit tally, taking good-naturedly whatever ribbing Richard gives him.

"You like 'the view' is more like it." Richard teases, quoting parenthesis in the air around the words 'the view'.

Meredith has no idea what Richard is referring to and she does feel kind of sorry for all the teasing Derek is getting, so she offers, "Actually, he did have his eyes closed, and I did rudely wake him up. I was having a bad day."

"Ah, I see. So you rudely shook him awake and forced your attentions on him. He had no choice in the matter. It is all clear to me now." Richard comments sarcastically as they reach the other side of the street and approach the doors of the restaurant that Richard just came out of.

"No." She says with a laugh, and with a twinkle toward Derek, says "I actually ignored him."

"You ignored him?" Richard responds aghast. "Oh, fatal mistake. Now you'll never get rid of him. No one ignores our Duca here."

There's that word again. "Duca?" She asks Richard, but it is Derek that responds a little too quickly, "It's Italian for Derek."

She notices a funny look pass between the two men, but she can't decide what it means. It's almost like some understanding has passed between the two of them. But then Richard shakes his head and says to her, "Well, why don't you two have your espresso in here, and I'll join you in a minute? Then we can find your hotel and you can tell me what a beautiful bella like yourself is doing alone in one of the most romantic cities in the world. Agreed?"

Meredith can't help but laugh at his extreme flattery and responds with a happy, "Agreed."

"Thank you, Richard." Derek adds sincerely.

Richard will have none of that though. He rubs his two hands together, says, "Okay then.", and takes off down the street.

Both of them turn to smile at the other at the antics of his friend. Derek is still smiling at her when he opens the door to the café and signals, "After you, signorina."

* * *

God he loves Richard, but was he trying to get him in trouble? Meredith was already shaky about following a strange man in a strange city; did he really need her to also think he was a heartless ladies man? It was true that before he had made his engagement official to Addie he had had his share of 'adventures'. And it was true that he had had a proclivity to pick up, what Richard called his 'Spanish women' from the steps. It was also true that he hadn't done that in a very long time. And it was especially true that he never brought any of them to meet Richard. 

"Thank you." She answers politely with a warm smile that makes him think that he should have tried opening doors for her a lot earlier.

He follows her into the restaurant in time to hear her ask, "So how long have you known Richard?"

The door closes behind them, and he has to blink as his eyes adjust to the sudden darkness. Directly in front of them is a small hostess station, which is empty, and a very long room extending way back to their left. He looks around for the host, but can't see very much in the dimly lit space.

"Oh, probably about five years now. It feels like forever though." He says warmly. "I was on my first trip to Italy, sitting in some café in front of the Pantheon, and Richard happened to be sitting at the next table. We discovered our mutual love of espresso and ended up talking all morning. Now every time I come to Rome I look him up."

"He seems to know you very well." Meredith says with a teasing note in her eyes.

"Yes, well, he did know me in my younger wilder days." He offers semi-abashedly, not being able to hide the sort of pride a handsome man might take in such a history, but not wanting to scare her off either.

"Mhm." She responds non-commit tally, showing her disbelief that these events are in fact in his past.

Before he can even get a chance to respond to her skepticism though, the host appears from out of nowhere and remarks, "Ah, Duca! You escape from the circus, si?"

"Ramon! Yes, I have escaped from the lions den. How are you doing?" He responds back jovially, happy to see another familiar face. Richard comes here almost every day and Derek sees Richard almost every time he comes to Rome, so Ramon knows him very well.

"I am good. Ever since Richard surgeon me, I good as new." Ramon says with a very Italian snap of his fingers. Ramon just then notices Meredith standing a little off and behind Derek, and says knowingly, "Ah, you bring a lady friend with you? You must want best table."

He turns to Meredith to see what she is making of all of this. She is just staring back at him with a very amused/smug look on her face that tells him she does so not believe he isn't some kind of womanizer.

"Ramon, this is Meredith. I am helping Meredith find her way around Rome. She's having trouble finding her hotel." He explains.

Ramon believes him just about as much as Richard did though. He grabs a couple of menus from the desk and says with a little wink to Meredith as he leads them to their table, "Whatever you say signor. I know a beautiful bella when I see one."

Meredith just giggles. This was so not going the way he had planned.

"Will Signor Richard be joining you today?" Ramon asks as he leads them through an adjoining doorway. Derek sighs as they make their way out of the gloominess of the interior to the wonderfulness of the terrace.

The restaurant had originally been one giant long room and some genius had decided to parse it in half, delegating the side looking over the Foro di Augustino (Augusto's forum) to a little terrace. Little black-iron tables, akin to patio furniture, run along the outside wall, lending a view of the foro from any table.

Ramon leads them to the best table in the house, the center one with a view of the forum in one direction and the road in the other. Derek sits down in the seat facing the road, Meredith in the opposing seat. Ramon hands them their menus and asks Meredith, "I bring you espresso, yes?"

"Yes please." She says with a sigh, suddenly looking very tired. Ramon wanders off, so Meredith turns to him and says, "I think I need an espresso IV."

"I think that could be arranged." He agrees flirtily, but is chagrined to notice she is not really paying attention to him. Her attention has been grabbed by something behind him and to his left. He turns to look and laughs to see Richard coming out of a side wall in the Foro carrying a giant pail of something.

"What on earth?" Meredith asks in confusion. As she's watching, Richard waves to them and starts doling out little mounds of whatever is in his pail onto random spots along the ruins.

"You've never seen a Gattare?" Derek asks.

"Gattare?" Meredith asks in even more confusion, her face scrunching up all cute.

"Cat lady. You've never heard of Rome's cat ladies?" Derek asks again in disbelief. He thought everyone knew about Rome and her cats.

Meredith looks even more confused, looks out at Richard finishing up his job, and turns back to Derek and asks, "You're telling me Richard is a woman?"

"No! No!" He responds, not able to stop the laughter that bubbles out of his chest. He has to hold onto his chest though to keep the laughter from stopping him from getting out, "He's feeding the cats. The gattare, usually women, are people that feed all the stray cats in Rome. The cats live all in the nooks and crannies of the ruins and some kind people take the time and money to feed them. Like Richard."

And sure enough, within a few minutes, little furry bodies start popping up all around the forum. First, one little striped calico appears from behind a sturdy pile of columns, and then two fiery red ones run out from under the terrace. Pretty soon there are close to 50 cats munching away on Richard's offerings, filling up the space immediately in front of them.

Derek watches as Meredith stares in disbelief at the multitude of cats now zooming around on the forum. Then the most wonderful things happen: her face lights up completely and she lets out a wonderful full-throated laugh. God, she's wonderful. He doesn't get to enjoy his little moment for long though because Richard walks up from behind him and jogs him out of his reverie.

Not far behind is their waiter with their espresso. Richard takes his seat on the outside side between them and asks Meredith, "So you are enjoying our little gatto show?", as the waiter passes their espressos out to each of them.

"That is one of the craziest things I've ever seen. And that's saying a lot." Meredith comments, and then sighs with contentment as the fragrant brew makes its way up to her nostrils.

Him and Richard both reach to put sugar and cream in their espressos, and he's about to say something to Richard, when Meredith suddenly lifts the espresso cup and downs the entire thing in one gulp. He must have been staring at her with his mouth hanging wide open, because she looks up at him defensively and asks, "What?"

"Nothing." He answers with a little chuckle, and then turns to Richard to ask, "So how is life treating you old man?"

He watches from the corner of his eyes as Meredith leans back in her chair and closes her eyes in happy contentment. Richard smiles a little at Meredith, but then turns to Derek to say, "Oh you know, a little of this, a little of that. How about you?"

"Oh, you know. Same ole, same ole." Derek answers vaguely, obviously because of Meredith's presence.

"Are you enjoying your first experience of Roma, bella?" Richard asks Meredith, trying to include her in the conversation.

But she doesn't answer.

"Meredith?" Derek calls out.

No answer.

"I think she has fallen into dreamland." Richard conjectures as both men stare at Meredith lying back in her chair, totally relaxed with her eyes closed.

Derek thinks it's the cutest thing he's ever seen in his entire life.


	3. Chapter 3

**So in my story, Derek is the one who is in deep denial. Just remember as you are reading this update that he's supposed to be getting married at the end of the week. Right? Ha ha.**_  
_

_Meredith is snug and warm. The cool clean scent of fresh linen and some indescribable earthen scent mixes beneath her nose as she is bumped along somehow. Her head leaden and comfortable against a very solid surface that is somehow warm and cushiony at the same time. She snuggles closer, only to be shhh'd by a low masculine voice that is a lot closer than she expected._

_She tries to open her eyes, but gives that up when she is deposited onto an even more comfortable surface. She is suddenly reminded of a summer's breeze. She rolls over onto her side and pulls a cloud underneath her, to be rewarded with a warm chuckle somewhere close by. She vaguely feels the weight of her shoes removed, a light blanket pulled around her, a quick peck on her forehead, and then she is alone._

* * *

Meredith awakens in a cocoon of warm blankets and soft feathery pillows. She gingerly stretches her sore muscles and raises her arms above in the age-old sign of a night well slept. She stops in mid-stretch though when she realizes she has no idea where she is. Oh, crap. She looks down into a darkened room to see herself lying on what looks like a queen sized bed. She slowly raises the blankets and is relieved to find that she is completely clothed. Thank God.

She reaches over and turns on the lamp resting on the side table next to the bed and is surprised to discover herself in a very elegant but understated hotel room. The palest of yellow paint adorns very high walls that end, of all things, with a fresco in the middle of the ceiling. The room isn't very big. The bed itself takes up most of her side of the room with only room enough for the two side tables on either side of the bed and some room to walk around. The room is very elongated though, with the entrance to the room directly across from her, the bathroom on the left and a dresser and closet door on the right.

It's still dark out, but she can see how the almost floor to ceiling window behind her could make this a very inviting space. She can't see outside though because giant slatted wooden screens lay closed across the giant window. The room is very warm with gold accents on all the lamps and aged furniture giving it a slight genteel air. This is all pulled together by the gold, yellow, and crème paisley comforter wrapped around her at this very moment.

A folded over piece of paper resting on the side table closest to her catches her attention. It has "Meredith" written along the front in a very long cursive male hand. Derek. She tentatively takes the note in her hand and with a calm steadying breath, begins to read:

_Meredith,_

So far, so good.

_Don't freak out._

Okay, doesn't he realize that by telling her not to freak out that that is just going to make her freak out even more? Alright, get a grip on yourself.

_You are in the Hotel Contilia in Trastevere._

Alright, now what about the most important part.

_Yes, this was formerly my room, but don't worry. Nothing untoward happened.._

Thank God.

_You fell asleep at the cafe, and I didn't have the heart to wake you. (Actually, that is a lie. I did try to wake you, but all you did was keep telling me that "we didn't have to do the thing" and you kept on sleeping. You must tell me what this thing is.)_

"Oh God." She finally says out loud, putting her head in one hand as she continues to read the rest of the letter.

_Richard says there are about ten million hotels called Villa de Roma, and honestly no matter how cute you are sleeping in my arms, I didn't feel like carting you around until I found the right one. So I did the next best thing._

He thought I was cute?

_I've moved over to Richard's for the time being. Please stay as long as you like. The owners are good friends of mine and will take good care of you. One of them even had some extra clothes she thought might fit you._

Okay, she was totally humiliated now. Not only had she been carried practically unconscious by a very sexy strange man, but apparently other people had seen her. She does look over to see a very pretty floral-patterned dress hanging on the closet door with dainty sandals resting below. Not very her, but doable.

Seeing the shoes makes her realize that she is not wearing hers. The bare softness of her feet on the sheets reminds her of him chuckling softly as he took them off. And suddenly she is reminded of all of the other sensations: being held in his arms, feeling his warm breath against her face, the lightness of his kiss against her forehead. Had all that really happened? Well, she was obviously here in his hotel room, so some of it must be true. She feels a little over-warm at that thought. Time to finish the letter.

_I had a wonderful time getting to meet you yesterday (even the sleeping parts). I hope you have a wonderful time visiting my homeland, and I wish you all the best._

_Regards, _

_Derek_

_P.S. If you ever need to get a hold of me, just let Isabella and George (the proprietors) know. __They know where to find me. Arrivederci la mia bellezza di sonno!_

Hmm. Not what she was expecting. She was definitely going to have to translate that last part though. Well, she didn't know what she had been expecting, but this wasn't this. He had been a perfect gentleman. Somehow she was kind of disappointed.

* * *

Derek had made a deal with himself. He knew from Isabella that Meredith was planning on visiting the Old City today: the forum, the coliseum, the palatino, etc. No, he had not asked! He had been minding his own business, having his morning coffee in Isabella's kitchen, when she had just offered the information to him! She had been chattering away, preparing breakfast for the other hotel's patrons, when she had remarked jovially to him that his friend was just the sweetest thing ever. That's not what he remembered (well, maybe only in sleep), but it gave him an opening to ask her about Meredith without making her suspicious.

It seems Meredith had been down wandering around the hotel main floors literally before the sun had come up. Jet lag was hell, that was for sure. She HAD fallen asleep at noon. She must have been really tired to even have slept as long as she did. Isabella had herself just come down in her bathrobe to pour herself her first cup of coffee when she had stumbled on Meredith trying to find some too. They had apparently had a nice little chat where Meredith had thanked Isabella profusely for the dress (Isabella had gone along nicely with that charade. He somehow knew that Meredith wouldn't have accepted it if it had come from him.).

Meredith had even told Isabella a little about herself. Derek pouted a little bit at that thought. He did understand, he did, but it still hurt a little bit that she hadn't confided even that small amount of information to him. He guessed he wouldn't tell a complete stranger anything personal about himself either, but still. So apparently she was on some kind of graduation present to herself. Why wasn't some fellow classmate or friend with her? And that still didn't explain the lack of clothes.

As he had sipped his coffee, Isabella had told him all about their conversation. How she had recommended the Old City as the first place to start on any proper Roman holiday. How she had told her of a reasonably priced clothing store nearby that sold serviceable clothes and shoes. No use spending a fortune on marked up crap that only tourists bought, Isabella always said. He hadn't had to do anything. He had just sat there sipping his coffee and all of this information had just come unbidden. It had!

He had sat and chatted for a while longer until George had come in to start setting up the breakfast buffet. He had told himself last night that he had only brought Meredith back to his hotel because he didn't know what else to do. That was kind of a lie. He would admit it! He knew that if she was here, she hadn't disappeared into the teaming masses of Rome. He had no plan of bothering her again, or even letting her know that he was there, he just couldn't simply drop her off somewhere and completely let her go forever.

He was scared to think about what that meant. As she had snuggled in his arms yesterday, he had realized that he was a little more into her than he should be. He had wanted so badly to ask her in that letter if she would spend the week touring the sites with him, but he realized that the fact that he wanted it that badly then it probably wouldn't be a good idea. He had to remind himself, as he had stood staring at her sleeping form from the doorway, the light from the hallway illuminating her fragile little body, that he was getting married on Sunday.

He had gone back to Richard's/his room and reinforced to himself that he should never talk to her again. Somehow in the middle of the night though, he had come to the conclusion that even if he couldn't do anything about the little fluttery feelings flapping around in his chest, he still wanted to get to know her. She seemed like a very interesting person, and he wasn't going to let the opportunity go by to make a new friend just because they were of a certain gender. They were both traveling alone and it would be nice to have someone to travel the sites with. Dining alone was never fun. And they were both staying in the same hotel now (even though she didn't know that). So it would be convenient.

But he had still decided to leave it up to fate. He knew she was probably kind of freaked out by the whole experience, so if he showed up at her doorstep he could already hear a resounding no coming from her lips. Or a politely worded refusal. Gawd, now that would be the worst. But if he just happened to run into her while out sightseeing, that was a different story. Hell, he didn't even know if he could find her in this teaming mess of humanity. He figured she would want to take an English-language tour, and Isabella had recommended it to her, so he was parked on the stairs leading down from the Via dei Fori Imperiali, down wind from the ticket booth. He stands facing away, overlooking the Forum, pretending to peruse his guidebook, as he prays for fate to be in a kind and giving mood this bright and cloudless morning.

He waits for what seems like forever, watching as person after person comes traipsing down the stairs. He doesn't want to seem too obvious, so he stays turned away, keeping an eye out through a little tilt of his head. He couldn't say how many times he saw a little dainty sandal-clad foot and shapely calf, only to turn and be disappointed. Stay calm, Derek, stay calm. Do you want her to know you're looking for her? Face forward, stare at the book.

He almost really thought she was not coming. She could have decided to go somewhere else after all. She could have come in through a different entrance. She could have come down before he got here or…or about a million other things. The tour group starts to gather down below in front of the Arco di Settimio Severo (or Arch of Septimius Severus), and she still hasn't shown. The sun had definitely moved a good degree higher in the sky as he stood there.

He had even given up pretending to read his guide-book, stuffed it in his back pocket, and was about to step off for his own lonely private tour, when fate decided to bless him unbelievably. He hadn't been lounging around all pathetic-like. He hadn't given up and left yet. He had literally been turning around to leave and... smacked right into her.

* * *

"Umph." Meredith lets out as she suddenly smacks into a very solid male object. She starts to totter on the steps, throwing her arms out to steady herself with anything she can grab onto. Which just happens to be the very strong object that is standing before her.

She feels some very strong arms reach around to steady her and looks up to profusely apologize for her apparent clumsiness. Only to be met with some very familiar blue eyes. Blue eyes she had never thought to see again. Blue eyes that were staring down at her in flagrant amusement and something else she wasn't quite able to identify. They stand frozen in time, them holding on each other long past any need to do so. She stares back, not able to break the sudden contact. Then something changes in his face, and he reluctantly lets her go.

"I'm so sorry; I wasn't looking where I was going." He apologizes as he incrementally takes a step back.

"Apparently I wasn't either." She responds kindly, smiling to let him know that there were no hard feelings.

They both kind of smile at each other, not knowing what to say.

"Thank you for, you know…yesterday." Meredith gets out finally, knowing a fiery red blush is probably making its way across her features.

"Yes…well…it's not every day that a donna bella falls asleep mid-espresso." He teases.

"Well, you didn't have to give up your hotel room for me." She continues, feeling the need to let him know how much it meant to her that he had done that.

"Um…well…honestly I really didn't know what else to do." He stammers as he brushes off the praise.

"Well thank you anyway." She says as she smiles up at him gratefully. But then a sudden thought comes bubbling up unbidden and she has to stifle a giggle.

"What?" He asks, looking slightly confused but intrigued.

"Nothing." She gets out, but starts laughing even harder.

"Oh, it is so not nothing." He says as he crosses his arms and waits for her to tell him.

"No, no…it's just that….well." She stutters a bit as the second blush in as many minutes makes an appearance on her face.

He only keeps his arms crossed and waits, so she confesses, "Usually when I wake up in a boy's bed, he hasn't bolted to another hotel."

Whatever he thought she was going to say, that was certainly not it, she decides when his eyebrows shoot up in his face. But then his features take on an almost evil gleam, as he asks, "Did you want to wake up next to me?"

Meredith feels the nipples in her chest tighten up at his low-pitched question, but she keeps her features evenly schooled. She slowly raises one challenging eyebrow, the left, and remarks, "I'm not telling." After which she flips around and starts walking down the steps.

"Oh, you are so telling." He says behind her, as he follows her down the stairs.

"Nope." She tosses behind her, working her way past other people making their way in the opposite direction.

She feels him make his way to her side and he says, "I could tickle it out of you."

"Not ticklish." She counters, knowing she is horrendously ticklish, but she's not going to tell him that.

"I could….bribe it out of you." He says after a few seconds of thought.

"Oh? What are you offering?" She asks with a little flirtatious tilt to her head as they pass their way down the last few steps and into the area directly before the Arco di Settimio Severo. This is where the rest of the tour group is gathering and where she had originally been heading before she had smacked into him.

"I would say the pleasure of my company, but you'd probably get mad at me." He offers with a little chuckle to himself.

"Probably." She answers non-committaly, that actually that being what she does want, but she's not going to say it out loud.

"Espresso seems to only put you to sleep, so I can't do that." He teases boyishly as he rubs his chin in fake thought.

"It was the jet lag!" She counters defensively, still a might embarrassed by the entire incident.

"No, no more espresso for you. I'm still a little sore from carrying you." He half-teases as he pretends to rub a sore spot in his back.

"Oh, you know you liked it." She teases back as they come upon the tour group. The tour guide doesn't seem to be there yet though, so they go stand in the shade underneath the Arco.

"Oh, I didn't say I didn't like it. I just prefer my lunch companions awake and not snoring." He says as he leans himself against the arch and waits for her response.

"I do not snore!" She counters defensively, standing before him with a definite glare on her face.

He doesn't look upset though. He just leans back, crosses his arms, and remarks "Well, I was the awake one and you were the sleeping one, so I should know."

She narrows her eyes in anger, but only "harrumphs" as she joins him against the arch. She turns her head to glare at him, but is met with only rampant amusement. Grudgingly, she lets it go and says, "You still haven't offered me a decent bribe."

"Well, actually I have a confession to make." She hears him remark in a different tone of voice.

She looks over to see him looking a little chagrined, so asks, "Confession?"

"I knew you were going to be here today. Isabella told me."

She raises an eyebrow that silently tells him to continue.

"We are both traveling alone." He starts, letting the alone part linger in the air for a while, before he offers, "I thought it might be nice for us to visit the sites together."

"And how is that a bribe?" She asks suspiciously, a little wary now that she knows this wasn't just some accidental meeting.

"I offer you my services as a semi-native Italian. I didn't grow up here, but I like to think that I know the area pretty well. I could probably give you a better tour than these second-rate college student tour guides." He says as the afore-mentioned guide finally shows up and starts talking to the group.

"But what do you get out of this?" She asks with narrowed eyes, trying to piece out his motivations.

"Why, the pleasure of your company." He remarks, breaking out his most charming smile.

She thinks about this for a second and decides what the hell. It would be nice to have someone to see the sites with, solitary touring not being her most favorite thing to do. Why not?

"Alright, but only on two conditions." She agrees reluctantly.

His only response is to raise his eyebrows in silent question.

"One: you have to take your room back. Isabella says she has another one opening up tonight, and I feel bad about you having to sleep in Richard's room." She lays out, Isabella having let that little slip of information out this morning.

"Isabella told you about that?" Derek responds with an endearingly boyish grin.

"Yes, and two: you have to let me take you out to dinner tonight. As a way to say thank you, I mean."


	4. Chapter 4

**Ah, Chapter 4. Reposting this story is like coming back to an old friend that you haven't seen in a while. So forgive me if I wax nostalgic or something. In answer to a question, yes the cat story is entirely true! As I said, every mention in this story is based off of a real place that I have visited. The cafe that Derek brings Meredith to is a real live place right next to the Vittorio Emmanuelle monument. The terrace of the restaurant looks out on some ruins. Which are usually inhabited by tons of feral cats. The people of Rome love their cats and certain people take on the responsibility of feeding all of them. I think it's wonderful. But back to Chapter 4. Meredith wants to take Derek out to dinner? They're going to travel around together? And so ends what I like to call Day One...**

Meredith and Derek are walking down the main thoroughfare of Trastevere, Derek leading Meredith along to his most favorite restaurant within walking distance of their hotel. He still couldn't believe her only conditions were that he take back his hotel room and let HER pay for their dinner. It seems she had been down to American Express as soon as they had opened and now wanted to thank him for his kindness. He could think of better things than paying for dinner. Stop it Derek, stop it. Fiancé, remember? Planning your wedding at this very moment not an hour from here. She's only being nice to you for saving her from a very precarious position yesterday.

He has had to remind himself of that fact a lot today. Which was very disturbing if he let himself think about it. But he wasn't letting himself do that. He was here enjoying a good time with a woman FRIEND and that was it. Not that he hadn't noticed she had worn the dress that he had bought her and that it fit her just the way he thought it would: the low scooped neck-line draws the eye straight down to the gentle swell of her breasts. The wide straps accentuating her firm arms and leading down to her tiny waste, only to flare at the hip and float gently to the knee.

A normal every day dress that went perfectly with a mildly hot Roman summer day of touring the ruins. There weren't many trees in the forum or the coliseum, so a cool outfit was a must. She was probably very glad to have that over the slacks and long-sleeved shirt she had had on yesterday. But as they had gone through the forum, him pointing out tidbits of information from his many tours of the area, her listening attentively, he hadn't counted on the outfit making HIM overly warm.

He remembered one particular moment when they had been standing at the top of the Palatino, the series of palaces located on top of the hill overlooking the forum and the coliseum. They had traversed the long walk leading from the Forum entrance next to the coliseum all the way up to the olive tree covered hill-top. He had led her to the little temple overlook that gave a breath-taking view of the entire surrounding area. It was a beautiful site. Someone had long ago planted a very pleasing formal garden that made it a heady experience to just hang out on the Palantine Hill and peruse the entire ancient city below.

But he hadn't seen any of it. All he could look at was the perfect wonder of joy on her face as she had admired the view. Okay, he lied. What he had really been looking at was a tiny droplet of sweat that had formed on her brow and traveled down plop down on the afore-mentioned gentle swell. Get a grip on yourself, Derek. He had turned around and pretended to be admiring the lush garden scenery, but he knew what he had seen. He was so dead. He had to get this under control. Maybe this traveling around together thing wasn't the best idea ever. Maybe they should just stick to very public areas.

He had had a very hard time remembering afore-mentioned fiancé's name for the rest of the day and particularly now as the cool night air of Trastevere played with the folds of her dress and the low lights of the street lamps put a particular sheen on the shade of her emerald eyes. She still wore the afore-mentioned dress, since they had gotten so caught up in visiting the old city that they hadn't thought to visit a store until well past closing time. They had gone back to the hotel and showered away the griminess of the day, and he had changed into a Roman gentleman's casual nightly attire: kakis, white cotton shirt, and light blazer. He had even moussed up his hair slightly and dabbed on a little cologne for God knows what reason. You always have to look good, right?

"We are so getting a regular guide tomorrow." Meredith quips to Derek as they walk down the main street.

"I am a wonderful guide." He quips back, but then interrupts to remark, "Ah, here we are."

They turn into an open doorway that reveals a dome-ceilinged stone hallway leading back to what he considers one of the best restaurants in Rome. Large iron old-fashioned lamps hang from the hallway and are scattered around the inner walls of the restaurant. The one thing making this restaurant so special being that it is really only a patio set in the middle of other very large buildings. The restaurant is completely open to the night air with a lattice of grape vines growing above the patron's heads and the gingerly placed canvas table umbrellas. Topping it all off is little table candles giving off little sparks of light that are tiny reflections the stars above.

"You called the Curia (the Senate) the place where, I quote, old grey politicians sat on their fat asses to make laws and such." Meredith quotes back at him as they make their way down the dimly lit hallway.

"It's true." He remarks simply, having learned throughout the day that the best way to rile her is to act all pompous and right.

"How about, that's the Tempio de Cesare (Temple of Julius Caesar), the place where they created that famous salad?" She quotes again, biting back her laughter.

"You have to know I was kidding." He responds with a small laugh of his own and a little bit of puppy dog eyes.

"With you sometimes it's hard to tell." She answers him truthfully, but he is prevented from responding by the maitre de walking up to them and asking, "Table for two?" in Italian.

"Yes, please." He answers back in English for Meredith's benefit.

"This way signor and signora." The maitre de says in the formal manner, leading them over to a table set a little ways back in a secluded corner under the eaves. The table set up in front of a small half-oval booth wide enough for two. They can look out onto the entire restaurant but very few can see them.

The maitre de waits for Meredith to sit down before he passes her a menu and Derek slips him a large denomination and a wink for giving them the best and most secluded table in the restaurant. The maitre de doesn't let on that he knows Derek and presents him his menu formally and takes a regal leave.

"I am so the best guide." He says as he uses his menu as an excuse to watch her face unnoticed. "I knew all about how to get around that huge line at the coliseum. And I knew who to talk to to get us access to that closed third level." He remarks smugly as he watches the candle-light undulate across her features.

He is so caught up in the play of the light on her hair that he almost starts when the waiter says right beside him, "Good evening and welcome to the Otello. May I get you started with some antipasti and a nice bottle of our house Cianti?"

Meredith looks over to him for approval, so he agrees with, "Yes, please."

"God, I could eat a horse." She declares very broad-like as she peruses the menu.

"I guess we'll rethink the gelato lunch next time then, won't we?" He teases. She had very vehemently insisted on gelato as their afternoon meal. It had all been worth it though to watch her chow down in ecstasy on a very large chocolate specimen that probably could have felled most men.

"I didn't hear you complaining." She rebuts with a little wiggle of her eyebrows over the opened menus. Him having particularly finished off his coffee flavored gelato in record time also.

He twinkles back at her in silent agreement, but won't give her the satisfaction of saying she's right. He instead looks down at his own menu and comments, "The mussels here are to die for. I once ate an entire serving by myself. I felt like a giant balloon but it was so worth it."

They continue to talk about what they are going to order, Derek deciding on the mussels on a bed of spaghetti set in a light broth sauce, while Meredith goes with the more traditional pizza margharita, or cheese pizza.

"I can't believe you. Coming to the heart of Italia and ordering a cheese pizza." Derek teases gently as the waiter arrives with their wine and antipasti.

"But it's authentic." She counters saucily, but then looks down at the antipasti plate to ask horrified, "Are those squid? That is gross."

"But it's authentic. It's calamari." He quotes back, picking up a few olives off the plate, along with a red peppers. And a squid just to irk her.

"I don't care if it's authentic. They could at least fry it or throw some marinara sauce over it to not make it look so…gross." She says as she stares at the offending objects laid out on the plate in little succulent steamed offerings.

"You should try it, it's good." He says as he pops one of them into his mouth and sighs in happy contentment as the lightly salty meat spreads flavor throughout his entire mouth.

He opens his eyes to see Meredith only staring at him in horrified disgust. He does the only thing that seems proper to do at the time. He picks up one of the offending objects and offers it to her with, "Come on, try it."

She only shakes her head back and forth no and sits back a little from the little slimy object.

"You know you want to." He taunts as he flaunts the thing even more vigorously and pushes it even closer into her face.

She tilts her head back one way to avoid contact with it, so he moves it over to the other side of her face. She moves her head in the other direction, only to promptly break out in fresh laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation. The next thing he knows, the offending object has been entirely tossed aside, and he has taken her face in his hands and is kissing her. She seems shocked at first, but is soon meeting him with the same ferocity. There is no thought of his imminent wedding. There is no thought of the inappropriateness of kissing a complete stranger. The outside world is far away and forgotten. There is only the cushiony feel of the booth against his thigh, the cool night of the air swirling around to play with his hair, and the fiery passion of the woman in his arms.

* * *

Oh my, that feels good. Finn certainly doesn't kiss like this. Oh shit, Finn.

Meredith breaks away from the kiss and blurts out, "I have a boyfriend."

Derek looks at her kind of dazed for a moment; his hair messed up from where she had ran her hands through it and his lips slightly swollen. When the words do register though, he looks kind of surprised and chagrined at the same time, and responds dazedly, "I do too."

She must have looked kind of confused, because he suddenly says, "I mean, I have a girlfriend." I…uh…kind of forgot about it for a moment there." He says in apology, but still staring at her lips.

"Me too." She answers simply, as she watches him watch her lips.

Then he kind of snaps out of his reverie and asks accusingly, "How come you didn't tell me?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" She responds a little angrily.

"I…uh…hmm." He hems and haws as he tries to come up with some explanation, but then must realize that there really isn't a good one, so he says instead with sad puppy dog eyes, "We're a sorry pair, aren't we?"

"You're the one that kissed me." Meredith reminds him, not quite willing to take equal blame for the situation they find themselves in.

"You kissed me back." He reminds her too though.

"Well…um…yeah." She rambles, it being her turn to not able to come up with a good excuse, only able to look down at the table cloth in embarrassed silence.

A couple of long seconds go by, so Derek asks, "So why didn't he come along with you?"

"I…um…kind of ditched him at the airport." Meredith admits, pretending to push something around on the table cloth instead of looking at him.

When she doesn't hear any response, she looks up. Derek's face is slack in shock, and he is staring at her in mild horror.

"Don't look at me like that." She tells him, and then tries to justify it with, "I meant it when I told you I was having a bad day yesterday."

"Would this said boyfriend be in possession of your clothes then?" Derek asks with apparent rampant curiosity.

"Yes." She admits grudgingly, picking up her fork to angrily stab one of the afore-mentioned squid.

Derek watches her stab the squid and must ask, "Was it really that bad? What he did to you, that is."

"Yes." Meredith states firmly, and then turns to tell him directly, "He agreed with my mother."

"And this is a bad thing?" He asks in confusion.

"Only worse than taking the last piece of cheesecake or buying sugar free instead of dark chocolate." She responds and then sighs dramatically and lies back against the booth. She takes a long look at Derek and then says, "That doesn't excuse me from kissing another man though."

"I kissed you, remember?" He offers with a small amount of his old twinkleness.

Meredith soaks in the warmth of his smile, but must ask, "So why isn't the girlfriend with you?"

The smile immediately leaves his eyes and it's his turn to lean back on the booth and sigh. "I just…I just needed some time alone." He says as he stares off into the distance.

"Was it worse than eating the last piece of cheesecake?" Meredith asks as she registers the sad look on his face.

"Oh no, she hasn't done anything. It's just that…" He says, but then pauses in thought before he continues with, "She just has all these ideas about the kind of life that she wants us to lead. I just…"

"You're not sure that that's the kind of life that you want." Meredith interjects with total understanding.

He turns and smiles at her gratefully, glad to know that one person in the world understands.

It's Meredith's turn to look off into the distance though when she says, "That's kind of what this trip is all about for me too. Everybody in my life seems to know just what kind of life I should have except me. I know they mean well, but I'd just like to figure it out for myself. You know?"

He smiles back at her in complete understanding, not having to say anything to impart his complete agreement. His smile dies a little though when he comments, "We really are a sad pair."

"Not so sad." She says with a sudden smile to her voice.

He only looks back at her in confusion, so she continues with, "We are two healthy adults on vacation in one of the most beautiful cities in the world."

"True." He agrees with a happy smile.

"And we don't have to figure it all out right this second." She adds, as their present circumstances of being at a very nice restaurant on a cool and starry Roman night starts to make itself known to them again.

"True." He agrees again, smiling even larger at her apparent optimism.

"So I propose a toast." Meredith says as she reaches for her wine glass and holds it in the air in preparation.

Derek picks his own glass off the table and says, "What are we toasting to?"

"A toast to a week of doing whatever strikes our fancy, without other people telling us what to do."

Derek quirks a single eyebrow, so she amends, "As friends."

"Friends it is then." He agrees and they clink their wine glasses in celebration of their new found understanding.


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, I am feeling generous, and the other chapter was kind of short, so here you go! Two chapters in one day! Meredith and Derek are presently friends starting on their second day of touring. Or what I like to call, DAY TWO. All places depicted in said update are real. I can provide links to pictures if anyone is interested. Enjoy!**

Why did he tell her he had a girlfriend? It was the perfect moment to come clean and get everything out in the open and he just…couldn't. No, it was more like he had heard those words uttered from her mouth, and still in a daze from those kisses, had just automatically responded in kind. Girlfriend/fiancé: same thing, right? No it wasn't, and he knew it. How was he supposed to tell her? Hm…by the way…my girlfriend is really my fiancée who incidentally I am marrying this Sunday. Oh yes, I knew this when I kissed you. And why did I do that? Because the thought had completely flew out of my head when I pressed my lips to yours? Yeah, that would go over real well.

But they were friends now. Friends. He liked that. He could be friends. They could be friends. She had a boyfriend and he had a fiancé, but that was cool. Sometimes things just didn't work out that way. If he was honest with himself, he would say that he knew that if he told her he had a fiancé she would bolt right out of his life. And right now he honestly really needed a friend. A friend that understood what he was going through.

He couldn't remember the last time he had had such a fun time just hanging out with someone. The entire day had just been fun. The conversation had flowed and dipped and wandered around, but never faltered or became awkward. It was just so easy being with her. She didn't make any demands on him, she wasn't asking him to do things, she wasn't telling him what to wear or who to be, and he liked that. He just felt good being with her. If he was honest with himself he liked her so much as a person that he'd rather take her as a friend than as nothing at all. And that was that.

The lifestyle section with a very large photo and story on the 'wedding of the year' was hidden under the table though. That certainly wasn't the way he wanted her to find out. It was almost ten o'clock, and he was still waiting in the hotel's patio for her to meet him for breakfast. Isabella and George had done a wonderful thing when they had set up this hotel. Instead of setting up an indoor breakfast parlor or instituting room service, they had transformed the family's private patio into a central gathering place for guests. The hotel was really an old residence in the shape of a U that had an open courtyard in the back. Small tables and comfortable chairs were set up in little conversational groups to encourage socialization. Breakfast was served buffet style, happy hour was a wine of the day with very large glasses, and just about any other time of the day it was a comfortable place to sit and just relax for a while.

They had been up rather late last night. After the first initial awkwardness, the clinking of glasses having opened things back up between them. They had eaten copious amounts of food, consumed a very large amount of Chianti, and talked about their lives. He had told her about his practice in New York and having to give it up to take care of his father's interests. He could certainly go back to doing that after everything got straightened out, and that's what Addie expected of him, but he wasn't certain himself whether that's what he really wanted to do. Meredith told him all about her famous mother (that had been a surprise! She was the daughter of Ellis Grey, imagine that.) and how she wasn't sure whether she wanted to follow in her mother's footsteps. It was a lot to live up to.

But now he sat reading his paper with a mildly annoying headache but with a happy grin on his face. It was a beautiful day, not too hot and not too cold. They were going to be spending the entire day sight seeing together. And they were friends. Life was good.

Just then he hears someone quietly come up and plop down in the chair next to him and let out a small "Umph." He folds down his paper enough to see Meredith in the same dress from yesterday, but this time her hair is a little frazzled and she has obviously just woken up. Her cute little face all glassy-eyed and seconds away from yawning.

"Coffee." She grunts at him, staring off dazedly with the just-woken hasn't had coffee yet stare.

He slides over the French press he had been making his way through and watches in amusement as she pours herself a very generous cup and sips at it gratefully.

"Rough night?" He asks unnecessarily.

She doesn't look back at him, only gratefully taking another sip of her coffee and says simply, "Jet lag sucks."

"Well, that should be over by tomorrow. It generally only takes me a couple of days to acclimate." He offers.

"You promise?" She says, turning to address him for the first time.

"I promise." He answers back, really not being able to promise such a thing, but it seems like the right thing to say at the moment.

Her eyes dip down to stare at his lips and he feels kind of flustered for a second, but she rights things by asking, "So what's on the agenda for today?"

He folds his paper up and places it on the table and says, "Well, yesterday you seemed to question my guide-giving abilities. I have to admit that my enthusiasm may have been somewhat lacking."

Meredith snorts a little at his playing down of his less than reverential treatment of the ruins and waits for him to continue.

"So I propose that today I give you the Derek's favorite places tour of Rome." He offers with a very charming smile.

"These favorite places don't involve espresso and lots of special 'views', does it?" Meredith asks while making parenthesis in the air around 'views'.

"I obviously had had too much Chianti at that point to have told you about that." Derek harrumphs, pretending to be wounded by her words. "But no, these are all of the places that I find the most charming and interesting about Rome. You should be flattered. You are the first person to have ever had the privilege of taking the Derek's favorite places tour of Rome." He pronounces with a certain degree of faux-narcissism and charming smile.

"Well, in that case, how could a girl refuse?" Meredith answers with a roll of her eyes, but then states, "Breakfast first though."

"And a trip to the store." She adds after a few seconds and looks down at her second day outfit.

Derek doesn't say anything though. He likes the dress. He'd be happy if she wore it every day. But then she'd probably never wear it again if he told her that. So he stays silent, pours her another cup of coffee, and they enjoy their breakfast. Together.

* * *

Meredith and Derek make their way along the Via Claudia, having gotten off on the Coliseo metro stop and walked south. They had passed through the tall buildings immediately surrounding the coliseo and made their way into an older neighborhood of ancient brick buildings and red-tiled roofs. Most of the doors have beautiful ancient mosaics above the door to designate the resident's occupation. It's all very charming.

They have spent the past couple of hours walking around from store to store around the Piaza di Spagna, Meredith shopping and Derek asking her just what was so important if he was the only one who got to see what she was wearing. She had told him 'just cause' and proceeded to purchase the long-sleeved linen turquoise shirt, tiny white shorts, and serviceable brown sandals she was currently wearing. She had even talked him into trading in his trademark linen shirt for a tight black simple short-sleeved tee, which may or may not have been the best decision on her part. The black color was doing wonders to emphasize the blackness of his hair and the tight sleeves accentuate his shapely biceps. And for some reason he had picked up some sun glasses that he had refused to take off in the stores.

"Is there something you should be telling me Derek?" Meredith asks as she takes a sip of the water they had bought at a little sandwich stand back a ways.

"Like what?" He asks and then takes a bite of his sandwich, the said sunglasses still on. Meredith has to admit he looks good in them, all Italian chic and all, but it's kind of been bothering her all morning.

"You aren't a member of the walking dead, are you?" Meredith quips as she offers him the water bottle.

"What?" He yelps, surprised enough to almost drop the water bottle in mid transfer.

"Sunglasses, Derek. You've worn them into every store we've been into this morning. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were taking me somewhere to suck my blood." Meredith explains with a touch of humor.

"Oh." He says as he takes of the glasses, grins sheepishly, and then says, "Um…well, actually, I kind of need to tell you something."

"Duca means Dracula and you're a three hundred year old vampire?" Meredith teases while she signals for him to hand over half of the sandwich.

"No." He answers with a little laugh, hands off the sandwich, and takes a deep breath. "It does have something to do with the Duca thing though."

"I know, it means Duke in Italian. Is it some kind of nickname or something?" Meredith asks as she takes a bite of the sandwich.

Derek looks at her like she has grown two heads, so she answers back with a mouth full of food, "What? I looked it up. I'm not stupid."

"No, of course not." He answers with a warm smile. She smiles back at him, but he still looks pensive. He even puts his hand up to rub his chin like he's trying to figure out how to say something.

"What? It's not like you're really a…" She starts to say, but then can't quite finish the sentence.

"Um…actually…." He stutters a bit, but then looks at her face. "Don't look at me like that!"

"Well, it's not like I get to meet a Duke every day, you know." She counters, trying valiantly to pick her jaw up off the floor.

"It's just something I was…born with. I'm still Derek. It's just some stupid title." He defends as he pretends to kick some stray pebble lying across his path.

"But why didn't you tell me before? And why wear the sunglasses today? You didn't wear them yesterday. Or the day before." Meredith pushes, full of questions at this unexpected turn of events.

"Well, you know people kind of act a certain way around me when they hear the whole "Duke" thing. I just…" Derek tries to explain, but gets stuck and can only finish with, "The Duke was my father. I'm just me: neurosurgeon Derek. I never thought he would die."

Meredith immediately stops and takes his hand to squeezes it in comfort. He has tears in his eyes, but he smiles through them. They stand frozen on the pavement for a moment, him trying to gather himself together and her offering comfort, until he wipes his eyes with the hand holding the water bottle and breaks contact with her.

"I'm alright." He says finally, and continues walking.

After a couple of seconds of silent walking, she quietly asks, "How did he die?"

"You see, that's the funniest part of it all." Derek says with a little laugh, and then continues with, "He died like he lived: full of life. My mom, my sisters, and I on one side, his mistress and her children on the other, and all of his friends telling crude jokes right up until the end."

"Sounds like quite a guy." Meredith remarks sarcastically.

"Oh, he was." Derek answers enthusiastically. "After his first heart attack, the doctors told him he had to cut down. But he wouldn't listen. He liked good food and good women and damn what some pesky doctor was going to tell him." He relays with an inward smile.

"What did he think about his son being one of the pesky ones?" Meredith inquires, warmed by the obvious high regard Derek holds his dad.

"Oh, as long as I was a surgeon, it was alright. Surgeons being much higher than regular doctors, you understand." Derek confides, obviously quoting.

Meredith laughs along with him, but then remembers to ask, "But you still haven't answered my other question."

"Oh, you mean these?" He says as he holds up the sunglasses. "There was a picture of me in the paper this morning, and I didn't really feel like being mobbed."

This confuses Meredith a bit though, so she asks, "They don't know what you look like? Aren't you like on TV and in magazines and stuff?"

"No. I don't really like that stuff. I wasn't even allowed in the country until 2002." Derek explains.

"Oh, you mean with the exile stuff you mentioned before."

Derek just nods, but then Meredith gets an evil look on her face. "Are you telling me there's no buttery spread commercials out there with your name on it? Or one's with you telling everyone how to get the world's most perfect hair?" Meredith teases, trying to lighten up the gloomy mood.

"Buttery spread?" Derek asks in confusion.

"Chick flick, you wouldn't understand." Meredith says with a roll of her eyes and a toss of her hand.

"I would hope not." He agrees with a laugh, but then turns the tables on her with, "You think I have the world's most perfect hair?"

Meredith isn't having any of that though. "You know you do. Don't let it go to your head, or something."

"Oh, I am so going to let it go to my head. Here, you might want to run your fingers through it just to make sure." He says as he bends his head over in her direction.

"I am so not touching your hair." Meredith responds a little nervously, as she very much remembers pushing her fingers through it last night when they had been kissing so passionately.

"You know you want to." He continues to joke, not being able to see her face, so he continues to push his hair further into her face.

Meredith instead pushes him lightly in the other direction, and he veers off slightly, laughing all the way.

* * *

"Hey! You made me scrape my hand on the wall." He teasingly complains, for he had barely grazed the ancient brick wall on his left when she had oh so slightly pushed him.

"You are such a baby. I hardly touched you." Meredith gripes with a roll to her eyes.

"You want to kiss it and make it feel better?" He says as he offers her his hand as they pass by an opening in the wall. He suddenly stops though and declares, "We're here!"

Before them is a perfect rectangle of an opening in the brick wall with a sign that says "Chiesa S Stefano Rotondo" painted over the entryway. The high wall rises up over the entrance like an ancient gate-house and even has a small layer of red brick tiles gracing the portico. The same bricks that make up the walls grace the ground as a paved street leading to what looks like a church. Tall pines line the two sides of the path and lead on to an entrance of Corinthian columns. He could not wait to see Meredith's face when she saw this!

"Welcome to part one of Derek's favorite places in Rome tour. Our first stop is the very ancient, but not so ancient by Rome's standards, fifth century church of Santo Stefano Rotondo." Derek says in his very finest tour-guide voice. They pass under the entrance and make their way under the swaying pines.

Meredith silently laughs at him, but stays quiet, so he continues with, "This church was the first Roman church to have a circular plan and was inspired by the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem."

"I didn't know you were such a history buff." Meredith quips as they approach the arched columns of the church and pass under into the cool outer courtyard.

"I'm not, I just like it here." Derek explains, but before Meredith can open the huge wooden doors, Derek stops her with his hand and says, "I have to warn you about something before you go in."

"You're scaring me here." She says with a partial little laugh.

"Well, this is kind of a special church…." He begins, but doesn't know how to quite explain the rest.

"Yes, you said it's the first round church in Rome. I get it, Rotondo." Meredith responds a little shortly.

"Yes, well, just be warned that some of the scenes on the walls are a little gruesome." Derek tells her vaguely, but takes his hand away from blocking her entry.

"Okay." Is all she says as she gives Derek a suspicious look, but then opens the door and steps inside.

Derek walks in behind her practically humming in anticipation of her response, but able to keep it to himself for now. Greeting him is the familiar beauty of the Rotondo: the inner Corinthian columns of marble encircling the altar, the high domed center with light shining down from tiny medieval windows, and the outer ring of beautiful frescoes.

He sighs in appreciation and looks down to see Meredith smiling in enjoyment at the eccestetial beauty too.

"Now, the walls of this church are decorated with frescoes painted in the 16th century portraying 34 scenes of martyrdom." Derek explains again in his tour-guide voice.

Meredith walks over in a daze to look at the nearest fresco, but then turns to him suspiciously and asks, "Did you just say martyrdom?"

"Look!" He tells her, indicating for her to look closely at the scene spread out before her. He puts his hands behind his back and silently waits for her reaction. It is everything he could have hoped for.

She pears closely at the fresco, trying to pick out what exactly is happening in the scene. Her scrunched up face suddenly slackens in horror, and she declares, "They are so not doing what I think they are doing. Are they?"

All Derek can do is laugh. That was priceless. She turns around and yells, "You are sick! This is disturbing! This is your favorite place in Rome?"

Derek cannot answer though; he is presently bent over laughing with tears coming out of his eyes. "You….your face…oh my god that was priceless. You should have seen your face." He says while holding onto his side and trying to suppress the laughter.

Meredith only glares at him, and when it doesn't look like he's going to stop, walks over and plops herself down on the altar. Derek gets himself under control and sits down beside her.

"You have to admit it is pretty cool." He offers when she continues to glare at him. She stares at him in annoyance, but he only smiles back boyishly, so she is obliged to finally smile and say, "Yeah, I guess it is pretty cool. But you are still sick and twisted."

"Hey, you would have never gotten something this cool on one of those traditional tourist tours." He says a little narcissistically.

"I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing." She tells him dead pan, but then smiles a little to let him know that she's teasing.

"Hey, Derek's Roman tour is the best. It comes with its very own charming Duke that has the world's most perfect hair and the saving of damsels in distress as some of his sterling credentials." He offers with a bright Prince Charming smile.

"You so need to get over yourself." Meredith says dampeningly, but laughs all the same.

He knows she likes it. If she didn't, she wouldn't laugh. He turns to face the frescos and just soaks in the beauty of the church for a moment. It is a quiet moment. No one else is in the church, the sounds of the outside city kept out by the thick walls, and he is suddenly drawn to say, "Okay, I shared my deep dark past, you share something."

"Like what?" Meredith answers in lazy relaxation.

"Um…How about what the thing that you do is?" He asks, this being something he's been dying to ask for quite some time now.

"What thing?" She asks in confusion.

"You know, the thing we don't have to do? You said it when you were sleeping." He reminds her, having been burning of curiosity ever since she uttered the phrase while he was carrying her in his arms.

"Oh." Meredith says with a huge blush. "I'm not telling."

"That's not fair. I poured my heart and soul out to you. You wouldn't tell me whether you wanted me to wake up next to you either, you know." He says, but then pauses at a thought. "Maybe the two are connected?" He says in rising excitement.

"So not telling." Meredith responds coolly but with amusement behind her eyes.

"Okay then. If you won't answer those two questions, how about a game of twenty questions then?" Derek offers instead.

"Twenty each or all together?" Meredith asks for clarification.

"Each. Has to be totally truthful answers. We are in a church."

"A totally whacked out church." Meredith comments snidely.

"A church none the less. Come on, it'll be fun." He wheedles, liking the idea of this more and more the more he thinks about it.

"Alright, Gomez Adams, what's your first question?"

"What's the thing we don't have to do?" He asks with a huge grin.

"Arrr! You are impossible!" She responds with a strong hit to his shoulder.

He play pretends that she hurt his shoulder, but then tells her, "Tell the truth now." She's good and trapped now.

"Alright, but you can't say anything, make a face, or respond in any way."

"Oh, this is going to be good."

"Shut up." She orders with a pointed glare.

Derek points his hand at himself in a "who me?" gesture, but then settles down to listen.

"Okay, well, before I met Finn."

"Vet boy. Or future vet boy, that is." Derek teases.

"Do you want to hear this or not?"

Derek puts his chin in his hand and pretends to listen intently.

Meredith laughs a little bit at his antics, but continues with, "When I first got to college I had quite a reputation for ingesting copious amounts of tequila in one sitting and then taking home the nearest male warm body."

"You naughty naughty girl, you." Derek teases with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

"Yes, well, I had this little phrase that I used to say to them to get them the hell out of my room the next morning."

Derek's face lights up in understanding, and he can't help asking with big puppy dog eyes, "You wouldn't have kicked me out, would you?"

Meredith doesn't say anything, only teasingly telling him with her eyes that she certainly would have.

"I am hurt, deeply hurt." Derek says, pretending to clutch his chest in pain.

"Okay, drama queen, your turn."


	6. Chapter 6

**Can I say how much fun I had writing this Chapter? The keyhole and park depicted in this update were two things that were not on my itinerary and I just happened to find while out exploring one day. If anyone gets a chance to go to Rome, I heartily recommend checking them out. Or you can just live vicariously through Meredith and Derek. That's what I do! If you love the story, please review. If you hate it, please review. You get the picture ;-p**

_Recommended soundtrack: Blue Eyes by the Cary Brothers_

"Alright, it's my turn to ask a question." Derek says as they pass along the Via Di S Sabina that runs almost parallel to the Tevere river on the southwest side of Rome.

Derek had asked Meredith to hold the game until they had finished looking at the church. Most churches in Rome closed at 4 pm, and with the long late breakfast, clothes shopping, and traveling it had already been close to three. Meredith had grudgingly agreed, pretty sure he was just trying to get out of answering any questions, but willing to let it go. For the moment, that is.

So they had walked around and looked at what Charles Dickens (they had found a pamphlet) described as "Grey-bearded men being boiled, fried, grilled, crimped, singed, eaten by wild beasts, worried by dogs, buried alive, torn asunder by horses, chopped up by small hatchets…..these are among the mildest subjects".

Meredith still thought it was gross, but all men were really grown up boys who liked guns and blood, so she played along. It was really cute to see him point out his favorite "scenes" on particular frescos. His eyes would light up and he'd get all excited and wait for her grossed out reaction. She didn't have the heart to tell him she wasn't that grossed out anymore, so she just kept on giggling.

"Wait, I want to see the key hole first." Meredith insists as they march up a very residential neighborhood onto the Aventine Hill.

"I can't believe you used one of your twenty questions to ask me where we were going next." Derek says in pretend disappointment.

"Well, you scared me with the last one." She quips back as they approach what looks like the entrance to a walled church.

"It was not scary." He insists as he directs her not to the main entrance, but to two very large blue double-doors set into the wall a little ways off to the left.

"Fine, it wasn't scary. You're scary." She insists with a little teasing laugh.

"If you're not nice to me, I might not show you which key-hole it is. You could end up looking in someone's backyard for all you know." He teases back.

Meredith has seen where they are walking toward though and is pretty sure where they are heading. "Well, I wasn't about to use another question on that." She comments, takes a look to make sure he's not watching her, and makes a mad dash for the blue doorways.

He bolts after her, but he isn't fast enough. She makes it to the door seconds before him and leans down to pear through the door, and then sucks her breath in delighted surprise. Before her is a shaped shrub garden perfectly manicured and molded to frame to the near distant dome of St. Peter's Basilica. It is breathtaking.

"I told you you'd like it." Derek remarks smugly from his now-leaning perch on the door. She moves her eyes sideways, without moving the rest of her body, and is given a perfect view of his crotch. Bad Meredith, bad. You are friends, remember? Finn, think of Finn. Although Finn wasn't really on her list of favorite people right now. He has a girlfriend too. Think of that. Stare at the church Meredith, stare at the church.

She makes her eyes move back to the picture postcard view and answers, "It's breathtaking." She takes a couple more seconds to drink her fill, and truth be told to get the picture of Derek's crotch out of her mind, and stands up. Derek only smiles back at her happily and takes his turn at the keyhole.

"Isn't that amazing? Can you believe someone took the time to plan an entire garden around a view?" Derek asks in amazement, still looking into the keyhole.

He soon stands up though, and they look at each other in happy relaxation. "So that was fun. Where do we go next?" Meredith interjects into the happy moment.

Derek just laughs, leads her around down the street, and says, "I have the perfect place to finish our game of twenty questions."

"That's only because it's your turn." She scoffs.

They don't have far to go though. At the end of the drive is a wrought-iron entrance worked into the same wall that surrounds the church, but this one leads to a small city park. Written on a small plaque are the words "Parco Savello" and spread throughout the small parcel of land is dozens of potted orange trees.

As they walk into the park, Meredith can see up ahead the same dome that was framed so elegantly by the shrubs next door. And as they continue to walk Meredith feels her eyes widen and her jaw drop at the breath-taking view. For in panoramic view, the entire city of Rome to the north and slightly north-east is spread out before her. St. Peter's dome is directly to the far off north, while the Trevere river flows underneath them. Even the Vittorio Emmanuelle monument can be seen off in the distance, rising behind the Palatino.

"Derek, this is breath-taking." She says needlessly as they make their way over to the stone wall look-out point.

They both sit reflectively on the wall, letting their legs dangle over the edge, and Derek says, "Now THIS is my favorite place in all of Rome. The other stuff was just for fun."

Meredith is still in rapture at the site and simply answers, "I can understand why."

"It's a good place to think." He says as he pulls his legs up underneath him, places his hands on his knees, and stares out at the city with his chin resting atop.

"Think about what?" She asks soberly as she senses the change of tone in his voice.

"Oh, life, the world, and everything." He answers vaguely as he pulls himself back from his thoughts and turns to look at her.

"What were you thinking about just now?" She pushes, really intrigued by the sudden heaviness that seemed to have settled on his shoulders for just that second. He's been nothing but light-hearted and flirty the entire day, and she feels like for the first time she might be getting a glimpse of the real Derek.

"I don't really want to talk about it." He insists.

"I'm using it as one of my questions." She insists even more, not wanting to pry but her curiosity overcoming her.

Derek raises an eyebrow, but then smiles at her tactic. "Alright, but then I get two questions for my next turn because it really is my turn this time."

"Alright." She agrees softly, knowing that whatever he says next is probably worth all of her questions anyway.

"Well," He begins with a strong sigh, and then pulls it together to say, "I just feel kind of lost lately."

He pauses, but she remains quiet and waits for him to speak. "I've always tried to live my own life, do the things that I wanted, be my own person, you know?" He asks, turning to her for affirmation.

She nods back, knowing exactly what he is talking about. Hasn't she always struggled for the same thing with her own larger-than-life mother?

"But ever since my father died, all of these responsibilities have come crashing down. I had to give up my practice to come take care of all of his business interests. I've had to step up and take care of my mother and my sisters. Not that I mind doing that, it's just that this Duke thing seems to be taking up more and more of my life. All of these things have just been kind of shoved at me." He says with an over-whelmed look, obviously thinking about all of these things, but then continues with, "but the funny thing is, I kind of like it because I wasn't really happy with my practice. Oh, I love my patients and I love being a neurosurgeon, but it just wasn't challenging anymore. So I think to myself maybe I should try this Duke thing out, maybe it's what I need. Maybe I just need to give it a try. Maybe that'll make me happy."

He finishes his speech and then turns to Meredith with a self-deprecating smile and says, "You probably didn't want to hear all of that."

"No, I know what you mean." Meredith responds honestly, her own life giving her special insight into exactly what he's going through. "I told you my mother is Ellis Grey, right?"

"Right." He answers in mild confusion.

"Well, I didn't tell you that Ellis Grey is probably the world's biggest bitch." She reveals, a high degree of vehemence in her voice. Derek's eyebrows shoot up at the strong words, but stays quiet to hear her say, "She's been training me from day one to be a surgeon. It's always been when Meredith becomes a surgeon, she'll do this and when Meredith becomes a surgeon, she'll do that. I've dyed my hair pink, hung out with the wrong people, drank way too much liquor, but I'm pre-med in college, and I've gotten accepted into every medical school I applied for. I've never questioned that."

She pauses to take a breath, and then sucks in air to say, "But the night before I was about to go on this trip, my graduation present of all things, she tells me she doesn't think I have what it takes."

She doesn't want to cry, but suddenly a suppressed sob makes its way out of her throat and she has trouble continuing. Derek immediately scoots next to her, turns sideways, and pulls her into his lap. He holds onto her as she continues the tale with, "So here I am on my graduation vacation all of the sudden not knowing who I am. Do I want to go to medical school or was that really only what my mother wanted all along? So you see, I really do understand. I understand a lot better than you think."

"Aren't we just a pair?" Derek asks rhetorically as he holds her in his lap, peaking out at the view over her shoulder as the cool breeze of the early evening dries her tears.

Derek must realize the dicey situation that they are in though, because he starts to pull away. Meredith stops him with, "Derek?"

"Yes?" He asks, freezing in place to wait for her question.

"I know we're just friends and all, but could you just hold me for a few more minutes anyway?" She asks without turning around.

She gratefully feels him settle back down and can hear him smiling when he answers softly, "Sure."

* * *

Derek is feeling good. Good, good, good. Many, many shots of tequila could do that to a person. Meredith had made him. Blame her. HE only drank Scotch. But Meredith wanted to do shots. Shots, shots, shots, he thinks as he stares at another empty shot glass that he doesn't even remember drinking.

"Remind me again why I'm drinking tequila." Derek asks Meredith, slightly slurring his words as he watches the light from the bar refract off of his glass.

"You said we needed a drink." Meredith slurs back at him from the next bar seat in a quaint little Irish pub in Trastevere. Just like any Irish bar anywhere in the world it has very dark paneled wood walls, tables scattered all around, and a prominent bar of which they are sitting at.

That's not the issue though. He remembers sitting and holding Meredith at Parco Savello for what seemed like hours. They had sat and watched in silence as the hot Roman sun had descended behind the hills. The fading light had turned the buildings of Rome into a kaleidoscope of tans, oranges, and reds, with even a bit of purple mixed in. He had sat holding her in his arms and had never wanted to let go. Which is why he had concluded, on top of their maudlin moods, that they needed a drink.

"But I don't drink tequila." He argues back, this logic making sense in his very inebriated brain.

"But I do." She answers back with just as perfect drunk logic.

"Oh." He says, thinks about what she said, accepts it, and then says, "But I think it's my turn."

"What's your turn?" She asks as she slides her elbow up on the bar to rest her head half on it and stare at him inquiringly.

"It's my turn to ask a question." He answers vaguely.

But she knows exactly what he's talking about and says with a roll of her eyes, "It's always your turn."

"No. I got two questions because you asked me the one question. And then there were no questions after that. So now it's my question." He explains in a very halting tequila-induced logic.

"Fine, ask your stupid question." Meredith agrees, practically closing her eyes as her head starts to feel really comfortable in said hand.

This one question has been bothering him more and more as the night has gone on. He knows he shouldn't ask it, but he has to. Her eyes shoot open when she hears him ask, "Do you love him?"

"Love who? Finn?" Meredith clarifies.

"Yeah." Derek asks, absently swirling the empty tequila glass in his hand. This question has suddenly become very important to him.

"Yeah, sure, I guess." Meredith answers uncertainly, then turns the tables on him and asks, "Why?"

"I dunno." He answers, still twirling the glass around, but not willing to look her in the eye. He stops twirling it though, and sighs to ask, "How do you know you truly love someone?"

This question has been bothering him a lot as the time of his nuptials has become closer and closer. He knows he loves Addie. That isn't the question. She has always been there ever since he could remember. The first time they had met she had had little red pigtails at one of his birthday parties. He had been fascinated by how one person could have so many freckles. He remembers how she had ordered around all the rest of the boys at the parties, including himself, like they were little soldiers in her army. That certainly hadn't changed. But when had it turned into love? When had he decided that this was the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with? Was he really IN love?

This time it's Meredith's turn to answer, "I dunno. I guess you just want to spend as much time with that person as possible."

"Hmph." Is Derek's only answer, almost a thinking humph more than a questionable humph. Well, to tell the truth, he rather likes Addison in small parcels of time. He enjoys it when they go out, he always has a good time, he enjoys spending time with her, but he also likes his time alone. He has his own hobbies, his own friends, his own likes and dislikes, and Addie is just one of those things he likes doing. Did he just say that? He has certainly had WAY too much tequila.

"What?" Meredith asks as he carefully places the shot glass on the bar and stares at it almost as if he's mesmerized by it.

"Nothing." He answers, continuing to stare at the shot glass as if it is the most interesting thing he has seen in his entire life. If truth be told, he'd had more fun in the last three days with Meredith than he had had all of since he could remember with Addison. Oh, he is so in deep shit. He slumps onto the bar and rests his weary head in his arms.

"Why are you in deep shit?" Meredith asks as she cracks a peanut open and pours it into her mouth.

Did he just say that out loud? "Did I say that out loud?" He asks as he turns his head to stare at Meredith from his leaned over position.

"Yes, you did." She tells him with a little unbalanced hand gesture. "Now spill before you make me use another question."

"I can't tell you this one." He says honestly. She would so hate him it would not even be funny. He could not have her hating him, he just couldn't.

Meredith stares at him shrewdly, well as shrewdly as one could after many many shots of tequila, willing him to answer the question with the intensity of her stare. He doesn't answer though, so she instead asks, "Do you love her?"

Maybe it was the tequila. Maybe it was the moment. Maybe it was that his mind was no longer connected to his tongue, but suddenly he finds himself blurting out, "I don't know."

Meredith's eyes open in shock and then she just stares at him for a moment. Then she lowers her head in an exact mirror of his, head in her hands, staring directly at him from across the small expanse of the bar.

"Do you like me?" She asks simply, both of them probably more sober in that moment than they've been in the last couple of hours combined.

"Yes." He answers just as simply, staring back at her across the bar, knowing that he shouldn't be saying the words but not able to stop himself from doing so. And seemingly he can't stop his hand from leaving its safe place from underneath his head to travel over to wipe a stray lock of hair away from her face.

He watches as she watches him pass his hand through her hair and almost sighs when she doesn't pull away.

"Derek." She says in a low throaty voice that he has no trouble deciphering. His hand stops as he stares into her eyes, certain that she wants him, but uncertain of what to do.

He knows it is wrong, he knows he is going to regret it in the morning, but he can't help himself from sighing and closing his eyes when she moves her hand up to his chin and rubs her thumb slowly across his lips. He stays perfectly still, with eyes closed, as he feels her hand splay out on his cheek and travel over to his ear. Her hand travels slowly upward through his hair and he has to mentally tell himself to breath at the sudden onslaught of sensation in his scalp. That hand travels back down across his ear, down his neck, and across his shoulder, to cup itself around his arm as it slides downward, to finally take his hand.

She takes his hand from her hair and gently places it on her thigh. He doesn't open his eyes for fear of making it all go away. He just lets his hand travel up the planes of her skin. His hand makes contact with the fabric of her shorts, and he feels her stiffen in anticipation. He opens his eyes to find her splayed out in the same fashion as he, eyes closed, head resting in one hand on the bar, the other resting by her side, as she waits for what's next.

He's wide awake now. He knows exactly what he is doing, but he doesn't care. He moves his hand up higher, underneath the folds of her shirt and up her side to slide his thumb across her breast. She makes a guttural noise in her throat, and he finds himself moving as close to her on the bar as he can get. He sits up straighter, only to bend down and move her hair aside as he nibbles along her exposed neck. She finally moves slightly in his direction and opens her eyes. He is lost. He scoops down to place his hands underneath her legs and back and picks her right up off the stool. Without a word, he carries her out of the bar and back to their hotel.


	7. Chapter 7

**This Chapter is for Caterpillar, who has been so kind enough to comment on almost every chapter! I did leave you on a certain cliff, but it was a lot better if I had left you in the middle of this chapter! This is a very emotional one with adult content and language. I thought it was entirely justified giving the circumstances though. This first part of the chapter winds between the present and the past, the past being in italics. Enjoy!**

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Meredith awakes in her room, not quite sure how she has made it back to said room. Her head feels like two two-by-fours have been using it as target practice, her mouth feels like a dull cotton swab, but her body is absolutely humming. She's lying flat on her stomach with her head in her pillow. She tries to move a little and is rewarded with a sharp pain in her hip.

"_Ugh!" Meredith calls out in pain as she lands harshly against the wall outside of her room._

_Derek had successfully carried her the couple of blocks back to the hotel, albeit with a little swerving and a couple of near misses with a very stupidly placed street light and one very annoying potted plant. Meredith doesn't care though. She is in Derek's arms, for the second time, and this time she is going to be awake to enjoy it. Derek swerves and stumbles as he carries her along, but all she does is laugh and laugh. And pretty soon he's laughing right along with her._

_They laugh when Derek accidentally kicks the afore-mentioned potted plant and has to untangle her from the dratted palm fronds. They laugh when he can't manage to get the door open to their hotel, and Meredith has to extend her hand out and swing it open as wide as she can while he rushes them in before the door shuts. That took a couple of tries. She even laughs through the pain when he clumsily drops her onto the wall next to her room. For he laughs right along with her and takes away the pain she might have been feeling with a breathtaking kiss that she feels all through her body and down to her toes._

That remembered kiss sends a searing warmth down her body. She licks her lips to discover that they are swollen and sore from an evening of love-making.

"_I really like these shorts." Derek tells her as he cups her ass and lifts her up into him._

"_Well, I think these pants are entirely over-rated." She zings back as she returns the ass-grabbing favor._

_His only answer is to growl at her and send little darts of pleasure running up her neck as he lathers attention on the area just below her hairline. She tilts her head back to give him more access, only to find him zipping around to grab her mouth with his and rapturously mate his tongue with hers. She doesn't know when kissing has ever felt this good. The feel of his mouth on hers, their tongues delving together, their bodies melding making her completely oblivious to the fact that they are still only in the hall._

She turns herself over in bed, only to discover that she is completely naked under the fancy comforter. She looks down at the gold, yellow, and white comforter that exactly matches the one in Derek's room. Her room is a little different, happening to be one floor down (which is why they had chosen it), and has slight variations in the décor, but is essentially the same.

_Somehow they unlock her door and make it into the room, the where and how not so important. As soon as the door is closed, he literally rips her shorts and her underwear from her body, pushing them down to her knees in a pause between kisses. She tries to return the favor with his pants, but she was not quick enough for his nimble fingers. He quickly unbuttons them and pushes them off of her before she even knows what was is happening. His shirt quickly follows, and she feels her shirt follow quickly thereafter as she falls back onto the bed._

She looks to her right, to find an already awake Derek lying on his back in contemplative repose. His right hand stands propped behind his head while he stares intently at the ceiling.

"Hey." She calls uncertainly, seeing the same weight of the world on his shoulders she had only seen the one time before: when he had been talking about his Ducal responsibilities. What could it mean?

But then he sees that she is awake and his entire face changes. "Hey." He calls out softly as his eyes crinkle in happy greeting and she is once again surrounded by the cool warmth of his eyes.

"_Meredith." He calls out to her as his body rests above her on the bed. She opens her eyes to see his blue orbs smiling down at her as he pauses to verify that all is right with her. _

"_Derek." She says with a smile and reaches up to grab his face with both of her hands. She can see him close his eyes at the warm caress, and she suddenly feels like the luckiest woman in the entire world. She slides her hands back through his hair, and can hear him sigh in pleasure. When her hands reach the back of his skull, she pulls his head closer for a kiss._

She turns to lie on her side and scoots closer to the warmth of his body. He stretches his left arm out to encompass her and she finds herself resting between the happy confines of his arm and his chest. She lifts her head to look at him and can't help placing a kiss on those lips that have given her so much pleasure.

_Their lips meet again, this time not hot and heavy, but warm and inviting. The gentle warmth of his mouth on hers echoed by the gentle rub of their bodies against each, meeting all the way down to her toes resting against the smoothness of his ankle. Their bodies so close, it just seems natural for him to suddenly be inside of her. She sighs in pleasure, only to hear him echo her sentiments as he begins to move within her. The bodies move together in tandem for what seems forever, but must only be a small sliver of time. Over and over again as the pleasure builds between them. And oh too soon, her body stretches and he fulfills and the stars explode in her mind, followed quickly by his final release and guttural groan of happiness._

He takes her kiss and even holds on to her head with his free hand, but quickly pulls back. She can see that the weight of the world is back in his eyes.

"I have to tell you something." He says ominously, as he licks his lips nervously. She can see sadness and guilt and weariness in his soul, but she was expecting that. She might be feeling a bit of that herself if she really let herself think about it. Which she wasn't. But he obviously was.

"Is this about your girlfriend? I know…" She begins to say, but he winces at the word 'girlfriend' and interrupts her with, "Well, that's just it."

She watches him try to gather his words and suddenly feels entirely naked for a completely different reason. And her fears are completely founded when she hears him utter, "She's not my girlfriend, she's my fiancé. Who on Sunday is going to be my wife."

* * *

Meredith makes no reaction at first, only staring into his eyes as a deer would suddenly smelling the hunter just upwind. He waits for her to do something, to say anything, but all he gets is an incremental withdrawal that he can only feel because they had been so close moments before. Her body tenses and she withdraws, both mentally and physically. Her emotions shut off from him, her body taken away.

She slowly pushes herself off of his chest, turning to stare at the bed. He's certain she just doesn't want to look at him. This was what he was afraid of. This is why he hadn't told her. But he had to. He just couldn't share what they had just shared and not tell her. He had never meant for things to go this far. But they had. He just couldn't not tell her.

He watches her as she slides out from under the comforter, dragging a sheet with her. She still won't look at him, so he calls out questioningly, "Meredith?"

She gives no answer, just tying the sheet around her and rising off of the bed. He dives over to grab at her hand and calls out "Meredith," again in a louder voice. She shakes his hand off and hisses softly but vehemently, "Don't you touch me."

He lies on the bed frozen, not sure what to do. He can see the hurt and the betrayal pressing down on her, but he has no idea how to fix it.

She walks like a zombie to the closet and pulls out her only piece of serviceable clothing: her dress; the dress that he bought her.

"Where are you going?" He asks softly, not even sure if she will answer him, but having to ask anyway.

"What do you care?" She asks despairingly as she places it on a chair to grab her bra and underwear out of a drawer.

"I care, Meredith, I care." He calls out himself as he rises and joins her at the dresser.

She keeps her back to him though, and responds with, "You don't care. I'm just some floozy you picked up on the Spanish steps that was stupid enough to sleep with you."

"You are not some floozy. I never meant for any of this to happen. I swear." He argues to her back, just wishing for one moment that she would just turn around and look at him.

He gets his wish, but it was certainly not what he was wishing for. She turns on her heel, the dull vacant look replaced by brimstone and fire, directed at him. "You didn't MEAN for any of this to happen? Is that your excuse for all of this?" She fires at him, her tiny fists clenched together in hurt.

"I thought you were my friend. I WANTED you to be my friend." He pleads, trying to make her understand.

"I am NOT your friend. This is not how friends behave. Friends do not lie to each other. Friends do not tell other friends that they have an almost-wife only after they've slept with that friend." She says cuttingly, punctuating every syllable, as she grabs the dress, her underwear, and her bra and huffs into the bathroom to change.

Her words seem to cut a swath right through his heart. It can't end like this, it just can't. He grabs his own pants from the floor and quickly puts them on. What can he possible say to make this right? He approaches the closed bathroom door and can only say what is in his heart, "Meredith, please don't let it end like this."

He is clearly surprised when she rips open the bathroom door, fully dressed, and yells, "End? End? How can it end? We never had anything to begin with!"

"Don't say that. You felt it just as much as I did." He pleads a little angrily, angry that she would even deny that. He knows she felt it too. He had seen it in her eyes. He had FELT it in her body last night. He wasn't alone in this.

"Move." Is the only thing she responds, as he is blocking her way out of the bathroom. He notes her hard eyes and rigid body and reluctantly steps aside.

She brushes past him and moves to slide on her sandals, grabs her purse, and opens the door. But not before she calls out behind her, "You better not be here when I get back."

The door slams shut and he is suddenly alone. He stands uncertain in the middle of the room not knowing which way to go. She obviously doesn't want to have anything to do with him. Following her out into the busy hotel probably wouldn't help any. God, she really hates me, he thinks as he sinks down on the edge of the bed and lets his head fall despairingly into his hands. What has he done?

* * *

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Shit. Shit. Why the fuck did he have to do that? I knew he had a girlfriend. I have a boyfriend. I could have gone home on Saturday none the wiser, thinking I'd had some European fling with some sexy charming Duke that I had met on the Spanish steps. Okay, Meredith, now you're telling yourself you'd rather not have known? You are sick. Look at where you're standing! You are in the holiest fucking place on earth. Hold it together!

She looks up at the daunting edifice that is St. Peter's basilica and curses to herself. Again. When she had left the hotel this morning, she had thought the one place that she hadn't been, that she really should visit, was the Vatican. She wasn't going to let some lying, cheating, bastard ruin her god dam vacation. She could visit the sites without HIM. Except now that she was standing here, all she could think about was him. Where just the day before she had looked at this same dome from a different perspective: wrapped in his arms at the top of the world. But even then, he had been a lying, cheating, bastard.

She takes a look around at the splendor that is the Vatican, being able to appreciate its manufactured beauty even through her present emotionally-overloaded lenses. She stands in the exact center of the giant courtyard of the Vatican, where the masses gather to hear the Pope's frequent addresses. She stands on the exact spot the guide book indicates and is amazed to watch the double pillars merge into one. For when the courtyard had been designed, it had been built in such architectural exactness, that when one stands in a certain spot, the all of the second columns lined up exactly behind the first, and it looks like the entire ring was just one layer.

Which is exactly how she had felt last night. She couldn't have told you when she had left off and when he had begun. Even in quiet moments, their bodies entwined and rested, they had been connected. God, she couldn't even visit the Vatican without thinking about him! What the fuck was wrong with her? I shouldn't even be thinking about him. He had lied to me, he had used me. He was a fucking bastard.

She thinks this for about the millionth time as she starts forward toward the Basilica. The giant, pillared, ivory-colored edifice rising up before her. But all she can do is hear the lonely click of her sandals against the hard stone of the courtyard. She was going to see St. Peter's, she was going to see the vault, and she was going to enjoy it! She would, she declares to herself, reaching up to wipe away a stray amount of wetness that had made its way into her eyes. It must be sprinkling. Or something. She was not crying. She was not.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Derek sits unhappily at a tiny table in a café next to the Pantheon. He knows if he waits around long enough, Richard will show up. This is his favorite place to grab an espresso, and Derek did leave a note for him at the hotel saying that he would be here. He really needs someone to talk to. Richard has always been a really good friend. He'll know what to do. Maybe he can shed some perspective on this whole thing.

He sits staring at his now cold espresso, staring at the foamy brew in desolation. He's dressed in his normal white linen shirt and khaki pants, but his otherwise ducal appearance is lacking. He has large rings under his eyes from a sleepless night that at any other time he would be rejoicing in. His hair sticks up in all directions, haphazardly brushed a few times to get rid of the bed hair. He had spent the most wonderful night of his life, and he was fucking miserable. Seeing the lights in her eyes dim when he had told her about Addie had probably been the most heart-wrenching moment of his life. He was supposed to be get married on Sunday. What did it mean that he cared more about someone he had known for three days than the person he was supposed to married to three days from now?

"Why so glum, my friend?" Richard asks as he sits down in the opposite chair and see's Derek's depressing state.

"You remember Meredith?" Derek starts off right away, preliminaries not being something needed between such close friends.

"Yes, the little bellezza di sonno. Why?" Richard asks in confusion, at the same time hailing a waiter for his own serving of espresso.

"I slept with her." Derek admits guiltily, staring down at his espresso rather than at his friend. When Richard doesn't say anything though, he lifts his eyes to find the most comical expression on his friend's face: shock, happiness, confusion, and amusement all mixed in one.

"What?" He asks, not being to decipher what that face could mean.

"Derek, you know I've never really liked Addie. No, let me rephrase that. I've never liked you with Addie." Richard begins, reminding Derek of the many conversations they have had about the subject.

"Yes, but what does this have to do with Meredith?" Derek asks, even more confused by this direction.

"You're getting married to Addie on Sunday, remember?" Richard reminds him gently.

"Don't you think I know that?! Why do you think I'm sitting here with a still-full espresso wishing I felt guilty?!" Derek yells out in frustration, but then freezes when he realizes what he has just said.

"Derek? Just what does this Meredith person mean to you?" Richard asks hesitantly, seeing the very real and very raw emotions almost tearing his friend apart right in front of his eyes.

"I don't know." Derek answers, resting his elbows on the table and rubbing his aching forehead with his outstretched hands.

"Well, you might want to figure that out my friend. You might want to figure that out before it's too late." Richard tells him simply.

* * *

Meredith walks into the patio of the hotel after spending an entirely unsatisfactory afternoon at the Vatican. The building had been filled with such splendor and grandiosity she never thought would have existed anywhere in the world. Gold, on top of marble, on top of silver lining, with the world's most beautiful statuary mixed in for good measure. She had stood in awe at the high ceilings and overwhelming splendor. And had wanted to share it. She had wanted to hear what Derek had thought of it all. Had wanted to hear his perspective on a building filled with dead people (the Pope's are buried within the walls). She was pathetic. She was a weak person. Because even though he had lied to her, even though he was a lying, cheating, bastard, she still wanted him beside her. Even if it was only to ask him one question.

So here she is standing in the door to the patio. She can see him silently resting in one of the patio chairs. He has his back to her, but he's not doing anything. He's not reading the paper, he's not drinking an espresso or wine, he's just sitting there by himself staring off into the distance. The once-cheery patio atmosphere has changed into a place of sadness. The happiness and gaiety of their breakfast yesterday only serving to emphasize the loneliness and isolation of the scene before her. She almost feels sorry for him. Almost.

She walks silently over to the chair next to him and sits down without looking at him. She can feel his gaze on her, but she can't look at him. She won't get out what she has to ask if she does. So she opens her mouth and asks simply, "Why?"

She doesn't hear any answer, so she slowly slides her gaze over to his. Her first thought is that he looks like shit. Good. The lines on his face are more pronounced, he obviously hasn't shaved, and dark circles emphasize the look of overall tiredness. But it's his eyes that tell the real story. He shakes his head back and forth, silently saying "I don't know", but his eyes tell her the guilt and misery he is feeling for what he did. She hardens her heart though. This man was getting married in a couple of days. This man had lied to her. This man deserved whatever he got.

"What was I to you? Some last fling before you settled down? Some poor American girl you could screw and never see again?" She asks in softly controlled anger. She tries to sound strong. She tries to sound like she doesn't care. But her shaky voice betrays her, and she cracks the last word.

Those blue eyes though, they stare right into her anyway. She believes him when he looks right into her eyes and says, "You know it wasn't like that."

His words shake her, but she can't give up that easily. "Oh yeah, you didn't mean for this to happen. I remember now." She says with scorn, turning to fully face him when she asks, "So what did you mean then? Why not tell me?"

Derek looks like he's just going to shake his head again in the same befuddled manner, but then thinks better of it and says, "Because I just wanted to spend time with you. Can you honestly tell me that if I had told you about it, you would have spent more than two seconds with me?"

Meredith thinks about this for a second and reluctantly agrees with, "Probably not." She rallies herself though, to say forcefully, "But you should have let me make that choice."

"I should have." He agrees softly, but without conviction, but then surprises her with, "But I won't take it back."

She looks up with surprise, to have him grab her hand and declare, "Meredith, last night was one of the most wonderful night of my life. These last couple of days have been precious to me. I'm not going to feel sorry for that."

"But you're…" She starts to say 'you're fiance', but he stops her with, "I've been with Addie for a long time. We were childhood friends. I…I….I owe her this. I love her. I do love her." He pauses as he confirms something in his mind, and then tells her, "I've just been selfish. I saw you on those steps and you were grumpy and prickly and adorable, and I just couldn't stop myself from saying something to you."

"You told me it was too early in the morning for a beautiful woman like myself to have such a frown on my face." Meredith tells him, smiling through her hurt and anger at the remembered moment.

"Not one of my finest moments." He agrees with a mirrored smile, but then smiles even bigger when he says, "And then you ignored me."

"I did." She agrees, smiling back until she realizes what she is doing. She drops her smile and his follows suit.

"I was just going to help you and that was it. I was going to have Richard help you find your hotel room, wish you a good trip, and say goodbye. I swear." He tells her earnestly as he squeezes her hand in emphasis. The left side of his mouth hitches up into a smile though, and he says, "But then you fell asleep."

"This is so not my fault. You're the one who brought me back to YOUR room." Meredith reminds him with a small defensive laugh.

"I know." He answers with a small blush, but then justifies it with, "But I wrote you that letter and I said goodbye. I stayed in Richard's room."

"Then you showed up at the Forum." She gently reminds him.

"Well…yeah….um…." He hems and haws a bit, not really able to come up with an excuse. He does calm down though and pulls out, "I don't really know what that was about."

"And the kiss?" She jabs, knowing that she is pushing him, but she really needs to know that this wasn't just fling on his part. She needs to know that she is not alone in this.

"I have no excuse for that either." He admits as he leans back further into his chair and looks like a chagrined little boy that just got caught with his cookie in the cookie jar. He does redeem himself a bit though, when he says in a frustrated manner, "It's just that….(pause)…you…you fascinate me."

Whatever she was expecting to hear, it wasn't that. She tries to pull her hand back, but he won't let her. He holds on to it, and tells her while staring straight into her eyes, "You fascinate me. I love the way you can be so grouchy and prickly and ballsy but still be adorable and cute and friendly all at the same time. I love the way you giggle. I love the way your hair smells. I just love being with you. And if that was selfish of me, then so be it. I never meant to hurt you. I see that I have, and I wish I could take that back, but I can't."

"Derek." She interjects; overwhelmed at the declarations he is making, not able to resolve this new information with the need to hate him.

"No, please, hear me out. I'm not alone in this, am I? I need to know I'm not alone in this." He pleads with her, grabbing her one hand with both of his and squeezing hard.

What is she supposed to say to that? "How can you ask me that after last night?" She asks with fresh tears in her eyes.

Tears start to well up in his eyes too as they both remember the deep connection they had shared. It had been a night to remember for the both of them.

Derek reaches up with his left hand and runs his hand through her wavy tresses. He watches his hand travel through her hair and sighs in happy appreciation. She wasn't prepared to hear what he said next though.

"I have no right to ask this. You can hate me all you want. You may run out of here screaming and calling me names, but I have to ask." He says and then pauses to gather his courage.

Meredith waits with bated breath, waiting to hear what he has to say, and hating herself for wishing it was something about a dissolution of a wedding. It wasn't that though.

"I know you're going home the day after tomorrow. My family has a resort on the coast. I am a weak man when it comes to you. I was hoping you would spend your last day with me." He asks earnestly, pleading with his eyes for her to say yes.

She looks up into his eyes and wants to scream and yell at him. She wants to run out of here and slap him for his audacity. But she is weak too. She wants to spend that last day with him. She wants to be back in his arms. She wants to drown in those blue orbs again. She is weak when it comes to this man. She didn't realize how much until this very moment.

She calmly and almost inaudibly agrees with, "Alright."


	8. Chapter 8

**This chapter is pure unadulterated fluffy ball of cheese with some added sex appeal. The resort they are staying at is a real resort on the Italian coast that I found by pure happinstance. My hubby and I missed our flight back from Rome and the next one we could get on wasn't for two days. What's a girl to do? Go to the beach of course! The concierge directed us to this hotel and boy was I ever thankful. I couldn't NOT have Mer and Der go there. Embrace the cheese!**_  
_

_Recommended Soundtrack: 'Save Me' by K.D. Lang_

_**Save me**_

_**Save me from you**_

_**But pave me**_

_**The way to you**_

_**Lead me upon the captive free**_

_**Gracious and tame like love can be**_

_**Lead me upon**_

Meredith and Derek sit side by side on the train to Sperlonga, sitting in the face forward seats. There are two rear-facing seats in front of them, but they are empty. In fact, the entire car seems deserted. It is pretty late. They are on the last train of the evening to Sperlonga, the late summer sun starting its descent in the sky. Derek sits near the window staring out at the rural scenery. Meredith sits beside him in her one remaining serviceable piece of clothing. They have no luggage. Meredith has her bag and a shawl Izzie lent her for the chilly evenings. Derek has his wallet and a heavy heart.

"You know, just because I'm coming with you, doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you." Meredith says with crossed arms after they have sat in silence for who knows how long.

"I can deal with that." He tells her with a soft smile, a small amount of the old twinkleness making itself known.

Derek doesn't know what he has done to deserve her agreeing to come with him. He had really expected her to storm off and refuse to ever see him again. It had been a desperate plea to spend the last day of her vacation with him. He didn't even want to think about what kind of person it made him, cheating on his fiancé days before the wedding. But right now he didn't really care. Meredith sits next to him in her little floral dress, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, her hair down and wavy, looking more Italian than he thinks she's even aware of. Her arms are wrapped around herself in piqued protection, but she can't help giving him a little half-smile at his comment.

He starts to think of something very naughty, and tells her, "I could try and make it up to you."

Her head slowly turns toward him and she regally lifts one eyebrow in a questioning manner. He only smiles back at her naughtily and tells her to, "Come here."

"Come where?" She asks, both her eyebrows rising in disbelief.

"Come sit on my lap." He insists, patting his thigh in the process.

Meredith looks down at his hand, then up to face, and comments glibly, "I don't see how that would make it up to ME."

"Just come here." He says impatiently, then adds, "If you come here, I'll show you."

Meredith takes a sweeping look of the compartment, sees no one, so then turns to tell him with untrusting eyes, "Fine."

She gets up from her seat and then turns to set herself against the side of the window, resting length-wise on his lap and asks, "Now what?"

"Now I'm going to kiss you." He tells her as he bends over to capture his lips with hers, holding her in place with a hand to her outside shoulder.

_**Spoil me**_

_**Spoil me with you**_

_**And sell me with the world of you**_

_**Watch over me with a mother's eyes**_

_**Judging my worth only to glorify**_

_**Watch over me**_

He feels her hesitate for a moment, but then relax. He puts his lips to hers and just lets them relax there for a moment, drinking in the softness. He tentatively opens his mouth and swipes his tongue along her closed lips. Her lips open of their own accord, and their tongues meet in happy remembrance. He sits up a little straighter, without breaking their kiss repositioning her so that he has more movement. She lies relaxed, letting him move her around as she meets his lazy kisses.

He takes the hand that was holding on to her shoulder and slides it down and under her arm to cup the side of her breast. He hears her sigh in the back of her throat, but doesn't stop the slow playful perusal of her mouth or her chest. He moves his hand around to cup her entire breast, lightly pinching down on her nipple. In retaliation, she bites down on his lower lip. He laughs deep in his throat and retaliates back with a tight squeeze to her entire breast. She sucks in her breath hard, and he knows that he has her exactly where he wants her to be. She surprises him though by moving her free hand around to pinch his own nipple.

"Hey!" He yelps in surprise, pulling himself away from her to smile down at her.

Her eyes only shine back at him though, her lips trembling in suppressed laughter. "What? You didn't like it?" She asks with raised eyebrows and a saucy expression.

"I didn't say that." He responds coolly, and then his gaze dips down to an object that he has long wanted to separate from other parts of her clothing: her top button. Um, and maybe a couple of other buttons too.

He reaches out with his free hand and pops the first button open, to only have her place her free hand over it and ask, "And just what do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" He asks with a chuckle.

She glares at him and says in a low whisper, "We are on a train, Derek." But her hand relaxes.

"I know." He says naughtily, already moving her hand aside to release the next evil button. She continues to glare at him, but she lets him move her hand aside. And she watches as he unclasps the next button. A few more follow, so he flips back the now two halves to reveal her bra-enclosed breasts.

_**Save me save me**_

_**Save me save me**_

_**Carry**_

_**Carry me through**_

_**And bury all my doubts of you**_

_**Clothe my desire with spell or prayer**_

_**I'll shroud every sign of need I swear**_

_**Clothe my desire**_

The sun is setting outside, the clear blue of the sky turning to mauves and umbers as they hurtle along on the train, but all he sees is the cool mounds of her breasts. He brings his hand up to gently draw his finger across the top of her right breast and says teasingly, "I could stop if you want me to."

"Don't you dare." She orders than closes her eyes and rests her head gently against the window.

That's about all the permission he needs. He smiles a little to himself and drops his fingers down to pull her breast out of her bra. He sees her give a little smile and then repress it, so he bends forward a little more and takes her in his mouth. She sucks in her breath as his lips meet her nipple and he has to stop himself from shifting himself around in his seat. He takes his free hand and wraps it around her thigh. Working his hand up her leg, underneath the fabric of her dress as his tongue makes its way across her breast. His hand almost to the line of her underwear, when an announcement in Italian comes across the train audio:

"Sperlonga, next stop."

He groans and lets his face fall forward onto her chest.

"What?" She asks, confused from not understanding the announcement.

"It's our stop." He mumbles into her chest, not quite willing to get up just yet.

"Oh." She answers in a little disappointed disgruntled syllable.

He finally makes himself sit up though and starts to re-button her buttons. She silently watches him redo them, but then offers laughingly, "Are you sure we don't want the next stop?"

* * *

They finally make it to the Hotel Club Torre Capovento. Usually they would have had to have waited for the city bus to make its way to the little train station and cart them along through the fields of tomatoes to the town center and then catch the hotel car to the hotel. But there were perks to your family owning the place. Derek just calls them up, a car is sent, and within the hour they are off. The driver is a little confused by their lack of luggage, but after a hefty tip from Derek, he is perfectly glad for the lighter work load.

They sit in the back seat of the car smiling at each other, trying to keep their hands off of each other. Every once in a while Derek will try to scoot up her skirt with one tiny finger, but Meredith will smack his hand and teasingly glare at him. Shortly they make their way past the town. The ocean can be heard pounding down below the cliffs. It is too dark to see anything though. Only a black nothingness spreading out as far as the eye can see.

The car glides along for a few minutes down a windy cliff-top road, through a short tunnel, and then they are turning down a small dirt lane. The car comes to a stop before a little stone building, and the car door is opened on Meredith's side. She gets out and stretches and instantly falls in love with her surroundings. It's dark out, so she can't see much, but what she can see is just perfect. The entire tiny resort is built into the hill-side, levels of stone buildings and landscaping leading down to the sea. She can make out a bigger building that must be the dining area, and many open areas that must be gathering places. Connecting and intertwining all of this is stone paths and walkways made of the same stone as the buildings. All of it set up to highlight the dark watery mass that is rising and splashing not 500 ft in front of them.

Derek comes around from the other side of the car and slips his hand around her waist. She turns to smile up at him and he places a tender kiss on her brow. The driver walks around Derek and says, "I can show you to your room now."

They both smile at each other again, with pure happiness, and follow the driver. Derek even grabs her hand as they walk along the silent path, the only sound the three sets of feet hitting stone and the ocean crashing down below. They don't have far to walk. The driver opens the first door of a string of rooms on a neat little bungalow building. He jingles the key in the lock, opens the door, and steps aside. Derek calls out "Grazie", and they step inside.

The room is nothing but a double bed, the usual hotel furniture of side tables, dressers, and mirrors, and a bathroom. Luxurious by European standards. A cute little beach bungalow dressed up with a hint of luxury. Meredith and Derek stand looking at the small room, then take a look at each other, and Derek asks, "Would you like to take a walk on the beach?"

"I would love to." Meredith answers back thankfully. For some reason now that they are here she is somewhat nervous. Before they had been drunk, everything had just happened. The train had just been naughty. Here you could feel the romance in the air, almost as if something was expected.

They both head back out of the doorway, Derek pocketing the key, and set off back down to where they had come in. Derek grabs her hand and squeezes it warmly, prompting her to look up from her newfound fascination with the pavement.

"So if your family owns this place, you must have come here a lot." She comments, suddenly a bit shy.

"No, not really." He responds back, sensing her sudden shyness and playing along. "We weren't even aloud in the country until about five years ago. When I came out here a couple of months ago, I did a tour of all my father's business properties and this was one of them. I've only been here a few times, but I always can't wait to come back." He tells her as they stroll down the stone path, past the stone booth they parked by, and down the lane onto the beach.

"I can see why." Meredith says in awe as the view of the water and the greater beach starts to come into view. Down the beach to their right she can make out the lights of Sperlonga proper up on its cliff top. Off to their far left a point juts out into the ocean, creating a natural privacy to the little resort.

They mutually decide to walk toward the jut, keeping their hands tightly clasped, making their way over the lightly packed sand, the waves crashing in their age old rhythm, and the stars twinkling overhead.

They walk along in silence, relishing the feel of the salt in their lungs and the coolness of the ocean breeze brushing their faces, when Derek suddenly asks, "Why did you agree to come with me?"

Meredith turns to look at him and then out to sea. She knows what he is trying to ask, but she doesn't know how to answer. After a few minutes, she turns back and answers, "Why did you ask me to come?"

"Fair enough." He says with a laugh and then changes the subject with, "Okay, enough of that. What I really want to know is what exactly Finn did to deserve getting dumped at the airport. I'd like to know it wasn't too bad of an offense, so I can send him a thank you card."

"You are horrid!" Meredith utters in mock horror, her laughter giving her away though.

"No, I'm serious." He says as he swings their clasped hands back and forth like a little kid. "I want to know what was so bad that he got uninvited from a trip to Europe." He says with relish.

"I already told you. He agreed with my mother." Meredith tries to answer vaguely.

Derek isn't going to take any of that though. "Oh, no, no, no. I want the WHOLE story."

Meredith sighs hugely and says, "Fine. I told you about the whole thing with my mother, right?"

"Right."

"Well, we're waiting in line for security, me bitching about my mother. As I have every right to after she tells me something like that, right?"

"Right." Derek agrees again.

"And he turns to me and says, 'Well, is surgery really what you want to do anyway? You're always complaining about how much you hate how much time your mom spends at that hospital. Maybe you should think about maybe doing something else'."

Derek lets out a long sympathetic whistle and says, "Poor bastard."

Meredith doesn't even hear him. She keeps ranting with, "I don't even know what came over me next. I just saw red. There was no way I was going to spend the next two weeks with someone who said that to me. When we got out of security line I told him the wrong gate number, told him I'd meet him there after I got a cappuccino, and haven't seen him since."

Silence. Meredith looks over to see Derek staring straight ahead clenching his lips together. But then he sputters and a great huge laugh comes pouring out of him. He stops walking and doubles over. Meredith yanks her hand out of his and puts both hands on her hips in affronted dignity. Derek just keeps on laughing. He even falls over onto the sand and continues to laugh from his sandy perch.

"What is so funny mister?" Meredith demands with a small kick to his leg. She can't help the small giggle that manages to bubble out of her though.

"Oh my God. You just left him there." Derek gets out between laughs, as he tries to wipe the tears from his face. "That is priceless!"

"It's not that funny." She insists from her standing position over him, trying to suppress the laughter that she can feel trying to escape.

"Yes, it is." Derek counters, having calmed down a little bit. This only gives him leeway to grab her hand though and pull her down onto his lap. She readily complies and soon finds herself being kissed by a very happy man. He soon lifts his lips from hers though, to say, "Remind me never to make you mad though."

"Why?"

"There's no telling where I would end up: Timbuktu, Shangrila, your mother's house." Derek kids.

Instead of laughing about it though, Meredith suddenly gets kind of serious. "I feel really bad about it now though. He was really only trying to help me, I realize now, but he just made me so mad!"

"Hit a nerve, did he?" Derek asks gently as he maneuvers her around to sit between his legs and she rests her back against his chest.

"Yeah." Meredith agrees simply, not elaborating. Derek doesn't say a word though, just lets her ruminate. She sits silently watching the ocean for a few minutes, letting the waves crash and foam over and over, until she turns her head around and asks, "What if I don't have what it takes?"

Derek looks into her troubling eyes and squarely says, "But what if you do? How will you know if you never try?"

Meredith stares back, trying to determine just how honest he is being. She can see it in his eyes that he means everything he is saying. How would she ever know?

She's not going to solve anything right now though. She stares into those deep blue comforting eyes and asks, "Do you want to go back to the room now?"

* * *

_Recommended Soundtrack: The First Taste by Fiona Apple_

"Do you have to ask?" Derek responds jovially with a sultry amused tone all rolled into one.

Meredith laughs too, but the much louder sound of her stomach protesting its lack of food fills the air instead.

Derek looks down at her stomach with amused wide eyes and says, "I think your stomach has other plans though."

"Well, I haven't exactly eaten anything since breakfast. I wasn't really that hungry today." Meredith answers, Derek knowing by her voice that it was because of him.

He thinks for a moment, and then declares, "Well, we're just going to do something about that, aren't we? Here's the key. You go on ahead. I'm going to go up to the kitchen and see what I can scrounge up."

"Sounds good." Meredith agrees, taking the key from his hand.

"Be right back." He tells her with a peck on her cheek and turns to jog up one of the many beach paths.

They hadn't really walked that far. They had only really been strolling along, enjoying the beauty around them. So consequently, Derek doesn't have far to jog. He comes up the back door of the patio restaurant and thankfully spots a light on.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Donna bella!" Derek calls from the other side of the closed door. His hands are full of containers and wrapped up things, so he can barely see anything, let alone open the door.

Meredith yanks open the door and laughs. "Did you raid the entire kitchen?"

"Well, I didn't know what you wanted. So I got a little bit of everything." He says as he carefully maneuvers his way into the room. He hears her close the door behind him and waits for her to walk over.

She grabs the top thing off of his pile, and comments, "Oh, what's this?"

"Something for later." He tells her, grabbing the covered bowl back from her and placing it on the bed. "How about helping me with these?"

"I guess so." She laughingly answers back, and starts to take each thing off of the top of his pile and lay it out on the bed.

Once his arms are empty, he sits down on the bed and points to each one as he says, "The kitchen was closed, so most of this is breakfast stuff. There's some pomegranates, some croissants and jelly, grapes, meats and cheeses, olives of course, something for later, and, oh, I almost forgot, this." He says as he pulls out a ball of red wine that he had stuffed in the back of his pants.

"But we don't have any glasses." Meredith responds logically.

"I knew I forgot something." Derek reprimands himself but still pulls the corkscrew from his pocket. "Oh well, will just have to wing it." He decides as he plops in the corkscrew, twists the cork out, and pops open the bottle. He takes a big swig right from the bottle, swishes the liquid around in his mouth, and sighs in appreciation. "Good stuff. Your turn." He tells her as he offers her the prized bottle.

She hesitantly takes the bottle, tilts the bottle up a little bit, and takes a tentative sip. She seems to like what she tastes though, because she takes an even bigger sip and makes a little "Mmmm" sound in her throat. Derek pauses for a second to appreciate the site before him and finds himself suddenly hungry for something a little more substantial then food. He has to let her eat though, and he is a bit hungry himself, so he grabs a pomegranate from one of the bowls and splits the tasty fruit in half with his thumbs. He bites down to suck the seeds from the tasty fruit and can feel the sweet juices pouring into his mouth.

He looks up to find Meredith watching him in rapt fascination. Interesting. "Do you want some?"

"What is that?" She asks instead, still focusing on his berry-ripened lips.

"You've never had a pomegranate before?"

She just shakes her head no, so he offer a half up to her and says, "You should really try one."

But instead of taking it, she scoots over next to him, says, "I think I like yours better," and leans in to kiss him. He has no problem with that. Their mouths fuse together like they've never been apart, tongues mating and exploring in mutual accord. Meredith pulls apart from him though and says, "Mmm, tastes good."

He can do nothing but laugh. He soon gets a very wicked idea and rubs the fruit right along her cheekbone. He soon follows the line of juice shortly thereafter with his lips.

"Mmm, good." He says as he laughs into her chin. She giggles at the scruffy feel of his tongue along her jaw, the sound only urging him to spread the juice even further along her neck and on down to her collar bone.

"Hey, this is my only remaining piece of clothing, you know." She reprimands, as the juices start to drip down toward the fabric.

"I can fix that." He says as he puts the two halves of the pomegranate down and starts to unbutton the top buttons of her dress.

"Fairs fair." She counters wickedly, as she returns the favor to his white linen shirt.

He quickly releases the buttons running down the front of her dress, and she soon has the same thing accomplished on him. He patiently waits for her to remove the two halves from her dress, and then for her to pull his shirt past his juice-covered hands. He looks at the petite little bra and panty encased form and decides he's not going to wait until later. He reaches for the mysterious bowl, tosses the cover off, and announces, "I think we need something a little sweeter."

He scoops up a large dollop of whipped pie filling and presses it up against her lips. She takes the proffered offering and sucks it off of his finger. God, he could have cummed right then. But he doesn't. He can definitely feel himself becoming rock hard though. She doesn't notice. Or does she? She just scoops down with two fingers and offers him the same treat. He's about to bite down on the fluffy sweetness, when she changes course and smears the entire contents up the side of his face. And starts giggling.

"You are so not getting away with that." He growls as he takes a big handful and smears it all along the tops of her breasts. He even tips her backward onto the bed and starts lapping up all of the filling, running his tongue in long strokes across her naked flesh. She keeps on giggling under his ministrations though, until he flips down the cups of her breast and licks it right off of her areola. Then she sucks in her breath and lets out a low moan.

"Oh God." He doesn't even realize he says it out loud as he raises her to capture her mouth in another kiss. Their mouths meet again and his tongue is suddenly tasting all there is to taste of her. He catches the mild tangy sweetness of the pomegranate, the extra sweetness of the pie filling, and something that is essentially Meredith. She presses right back up against him, meeting kiss for kiss just as passionately as he, and he must suddenly have all of her. He slides his hand down the length of her body and meets with the cool wetness of her readiness. Her hips rise to meet his hand and she lets out a small moan in the back of her throat to let him know that she likes it. There's no way he can wait any longer.

"Meredith?"

"Yes?" She answers breathily.

"I have to be inside of you right now."


	9. Chapter 9

**This chapter is a bit long, but I'm sure you won't mind. This chapter was interesting to write in that here they are knowingly embarking on this affair, each trying to enjoy themselves, and each other, but not altogether being able to forget the outside world. I also wanted to show their connection and how they are good for each other in more than just sexual ways. But there's a bit of that too. But this story is about more than just falling in love. It's about Meredith and Derek finding out just who they are and what they want out of life. Can they figure it out before Sunday? We'll just have to wait and see!**_  
_

_Recommended Soundtrack: Come, sing me a song by Sing-Sing_

Meredith is awake with her eyes closed when she hears a tiny click and the sound of the door opening. She rolls over to discover Derek pushing his way into the room, his arms full with a tray containing a pot of espresso, two espresso cups, warm buttery croissants, and various jams and butters.

"You need any help with that?" She calls out as he pushes his way into the room, moving slowly to precariously balance everything on the tray.

"Nope, I got it." He answers with a smile, flashing her a grin, but returning quickly to concentrate on his balancing act.

Meredith realizes she is lying naked underneath the swath of covers. She remembers how she got naked, but she doesn't remember getting under the covers. She looks over to see that all of the food that had been spread out on the other side of the bed is no longer there. In fact, it's nowhere to be seen.

Derek finally places the heavy tray on the night stand next to her, and she scoots over a little bit to let him sit down on the edge of the bed. He readily complies, and she comments, "Someone has been a busy bee this morning."

Derek places the croissants and accoutrements on the bed before them, but says, "Well, it's not technically morning anymore."

Meredith zooms around to look at the clock on the other night stand and gasps when she reads 12:04. "Oh my God, how come you didn't wake me up?" She asks in horror, not being able to believe that she slept so late.

Derek takes a fresh croissant and starts to lather butter all over it. He takes a bite, sighs in appreciation, and then says, "I just couldn't do it. You were just so cute lying there snoring away with pieces of pie filling stuck on your face."

"What?!" Meredith huffs with mock horror, and then chuckles to herself while saying, "Well, who's fault is that?!"

"Mine." Derek answers silkily as he leans over and places a warm buttery kiss on her temple.

Meredith keeps her arms crossed over her chest though and huffs, "You're lucky you brought coffee, or you might be looking for a new place to sleep right now."

"You better be nice to me or I won't give you your presents." Derek teases as he chomps down on his croissant.

"Presents? As in plural?" Meredith questions hopefully, dropping her crossed arms slightly.

"Food first, presents later." He playfully demands, twinkling at her as he stuffs the remaining bit of croissant in his mouth and reaches for another.

"Fine." She reluctantly agrees, twinkling back at him as she reaches for her own buttery morsal.

Derek goes to pour coffee, and she takes her first bite. The croissant is hot and flaky with a hint of soft doughiness in the middle. Wonderful. Just what she needed. She takes a few bites, munching in contented silence, until the entire baguette is gone. She can see that Derek is laughing at her eagerness, but he doesn't say anything, only handing over her cup of coffee when the croissant is gone.

"So what have you been up to, oh so smug-pants?" She asks him after a few sips of her caffeinated brew.

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that." He answers vaguely, as he takes little sips of his own espresso, not able to hide his secretive amused smile from her. She's not even sure he is trying.

"Foods done, present time." She declares regally, knowing she's not done, but wanting to get him back for his vague mien.

"Okay, I guess I'll just have to toss the rest of these to the seagulls then." He says morosely as he goes to pick up the plate and pretends to start rising.

"Huh!" She calls out, reaching out to grab the plate and pull it back down. "Fine, you win, presents later." She answers grumpily as she shoves an entire half of a croissant in her mouth.

Derek can only laugh at her now pronounced chipmuck look. "This is your fault you know!" She tells him accusingly as she attempts to chew the very large amount of croissant now filling her mouth. "You brought all that good food over last night, and then you didn't let me eat any of it!"

"I didn't hear any complaining." Derek responds with a pronounced wiggle of his eyebrows.

"Fine, no complaining from this corner. But tonight you're buying me dinner first!" Meredith laughingly demands.

"Actually, this resort has a fabulous restaurant. Tonight I'm going to wine and dine you my chicadee. I might even take you dancing." He promises with a wink.

"Breakfast in bed? Dancing? Dinner at an Italian resort? You might never get rid of me." Meredith comments flippantly, and then freezes when she realizes what she has just said.

Derek freezes too, the coffee cup that was on the way to his lips pausing in mid-air. He completes the arc after a couple of pained seconds, and chooses to let it go. A little more soberly he comments, "Come on sleepy-head, we've got a full day ahead of us. Well, full afternoon in your case."

Meredith doesn't say anything though, just smiles back at him as she takes another sip of her coffee. The tension dissipates, her comment is pushed aside, but it is not forgotten. Not by either of them.

* * *

_Recommended Soundtrack: 'Til the End of Time' by Devotchka_

_**They're just words, they ain't worth nothing**_

_**Cloud your head and push your buttons**_

_**And watch how they just disappear**_

_**When we're far away from here**_

Derek watches Meredith as she walks down the winding concrete staircase. She is wearing a few of his presents: a chocolate brown bikini, white wrap-around skirt, and giant straw hat. He had gotten the resort driver, through heavy bribery and some effortless charm, to take him to town this morning for a quick jaunt to the stores. He had left a note, but crumpled it up when he had returned to find her still sleeping. Well, neither one of them had gotten much sleep the past couple of nights. The only reason he hadn't been snuggled up against her himself was that his mind just wouldn't let him rest. He wanted this little trip to be careless and care-free, but this little voice at the back of his head kept reminding him that he was supposed to be marrying someone else on Sunday. Her little faux pas this morning not being anything he hadn't said to himself all morning. How was he really going to say goodbye? He wouldn't think about that right now. He was just going to enjoy this day with her. They would come to it when they did. And that was that.

_**Oh who put all the cares inside your head**_

_**You can't live your life on your deathbed**_

_**And it's been such a lovely day**_

_**Let's not let it end this way**_

He watches her making her way down the eons of steps that traverse the side of the cliff. They lead down from the main town of Sperlonga to the beach. He tries to push all thoughts away except the day that they have ahead of them. He can see that the bikini that he bought her was an extremely good choice, if he does say so himself. And he couldn't resist the giant straw hat and sunglasses that she was just now sporting. With her long hair spread out on her back, a white cover-all wrap-around skirt, and her sandals, she looks very European chic. He himself had picked out some very serviceable dark blue swim trunks. More American surfing shorts rather than European, but there would be no speedos getting anywhere near his person. No way.

"I can't believe you bought me a bathing suit." She tells him, still moving steadily down the stairwell, but turning to address him.

"Well, I would have been happy with you going to the beach naked, but I thought other people might have a problem with that." He teases, swinging the bag of towels and sun screen as he practically skips his way down the stairs.

"I'm sure you would have been." She tells him with a laugh, "But, seriously, I'm going to pay you back."

"Consider it a gift for having to put up with me all week." He laughingly tells her with a beguiling little grin.

"Well, there is that." She starts to say, when they round a corner and suddenly the entire beach is spread out before them on their left. The beach curves around into a half moon, and they can see all the way at the far end the point where they walked last night. Scores of umbrellas and beach chairs line the sandy shore, set up in little perfect rowed squares. "Derek, it's breathtaking!"

Meredith is looking out over the stairwell, so she doesn't notice that he is looking at her when he says, "Yes, it is."

She hears the little catch in his voice, so turns around to look at him inquiringly. She turns her head to look up at him and asks, "What?"

"Nothing." He answers with a secretive smile.

They both stare at the other, mesmerized for a second, but then wordlessly decide to continue down the stairs.

_**And everybody knows where this is heading**_

_**Forgive me for forgetting**_

_**Our hearts are irrevocably combined**_

_**Star-crossed souls slow dancing**_

_**Retreating and advancing**_

_**Across the sky until the end of time**_

They finish their ascent, sandaled feet meeting hot packed sand. They pass through the line of immediate umbrellas to the beach proper, and look around for a place to set up camp.

"What about over there?" Meredith asks as she points to a free spot a little ways down. The beach is crowded but not overly so. People mill about here and there in little groups, some on towels, some under umbrellas, all enjoying the not overly warm May day. Voices of little children screaming in the water, many low conversations, and seagulls crying permeate the air, with the even crooning rhythm of waves crashing with an even tempo in the background.

Derek follows her over to the little designated piece of sand and they start spreading out their towels. They both whip them out into matching rectangles, then toss their sandals aside, him throwing down his bag, and her freeing herself of her wrap, hat, and sunglasses.

They both look at each other happily and Meredith asks, "So what should we do now?"

Derek gets a very evil look on his face.

"What's that look for?" Meredith asks suspiciously, then backs up when Derek moves forward with his hands outstretched. He reaches for her, but she is too quick for him. She takes a few steps back and takes a challenging stance. Derek stands ready himself, with his arms stretched out in front of him in readiness and an irresistible grin on his face. He fake leaps at her, and she goes tearing down the beach laughing. He chases after her, laughing all the way himself, catching up to her and scooping her up in his arms.

"Ah! Derek Shepherd, I am so going to get you for this!" Meredith screams, but she doesn't seem to be trying very hard.

He carries her on into the water anyway, the cool ocean spray springing up to lightly splash them. The water is a might cold. He slowly makes his way further and further out to see, while she just relaxes in his arms and lets him take her where he will. When the water gets deep enough, he gently floats her on the water, them both bobbing up and down as one wave after another comes toward them and passes on.

He takes them out past the breakers, where the sea almost turns into a gentle lake. The waves still come, but they are gentle swells that only turn into tumultuous spray closer to the beach. The voices of the beach-goers on shore are muted by the crashing waves and it is if they are completely alone. Derek still holds Meredith in his arms, gently pushing her to and fro as he reaches the point where he can barely still keep his chest above water. They twirl around together, her hair floating behind her over his arm, a little smile on her lips, totally relaxed and at peace. He is relaxed and at peace. He can't remember the last time he felt this at peace.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Meredith asks, the happy smile replaced by concern for his sudden frown.

"It's nothing." He first answers, not wanting to break the happy spell.

"It's not nothing. Your frown says it's not nothing." She insists, frowning up at him as he can only describe as adorably concerned.

_**Like sisters and brothers we lean on each other**_

_**Like sweethearts carved on a headstone**_

_**Oh why even bother, it'll be here tomorrow**_

_**It's not worth sleeping alone**_

He pauses for a second, trying to decide if he should really tell her. He takes one more look at her face and decides to proceed.

"Have you ever been in a moment when you thought you were happy? And then something happens to make you really happy, and you realize what you thought was happiness before was just average? That maybe you just hadn't known what real happiness was until that moment?" He tells her, the honest statement pouring out of him.

She doesn't answer him, just waits for him to continue. "Well, that's how I feel right now." He concludes, watching her for her reaction, but qualifying it with, "What a way to ruin a moment, huh?"

Her eyes tear up, but there is a happy light to them. Her lips try to tilt upward into a smile, but they only manage to wobble. "You didn't ruin it." She tells him softly, and he can see that he hasn't.

For him though the moment is gone though. He no longer feels happy. In fact, he feels miserable.

_**And look at you and me still here together**_

_**There is no one who knows you better**_

_**And we've come such a long way**_

_**Let's put it off for one more day**_

* * *

_Recommended Soundtrack: 'Rebel Rebel' by Seu Jorge_

Meredith and Derek lay on their towels, side by side, lying flat on their stomachs as the sun beats down on their bathing-suit clad bodies. They had come out of the water hours ago after playing around out past the breakers: splashing and dunking and grabbing and generally having a great old time. Their little moment the only serious note in a day of fun and laughter.

Meredith lays with her eyes closed and head down on the blanket, arms holding her head off of the blanket. She is in the sun-baked stupor that all good sunbathers are familiar with: the half-awake, half-asleep state where even the smallest movement is torture. And every so often, when the sun feels the hottest on her skin, she turns over and starts the process all over again. Meredith is lying in said state with the extra bonus of knowing that Derek's happiest moment has been being with her today. She sighs for about the millionth time.

She's not going to bring that up right now though. She'll just bask in that knowledge for a little while and conveniently forget about that pesky thing of a fiancé and a stupid wedding waiting for someone the day after tomorrow. A girl lying on a Mediterranean beach with a hunky man sprawled out beside her in very flattering blue trunks can dream, right?

She turns over and she adjusts her sunglasses, but not without taking an assessing look at the man candy buffet spread out before her. He lays on his stomach, also with his hands spread out along his sides, his head facing away from her. She's sure if she looks, he will have his eyes closed too. She smiles a little and then lies down on her back, arms at her sides, and closes her eyes again.

"Derek?"

"Mmmm." He responds while not even moving an eyelash.

"So tell me, what's really wrong about being a Duke?" She asks, politely inquiring in a rambly sort of way. "I mean, your family owns a resort, and probably a lot of other cool places, people will do things for you they wouldn't do for anybody else, and….and, well, you get to be a Duke."

Derek lazily rolls his head over to her side and looks at her with half-awake eyes. "It's not that simple." He replies with a little relaxed smile.

"What's not that simple? Every guy I know would probably give his left nut to walk around saying, "I'm Duke so and so. Yes, that's me. Please get out of my way. Yes, I'm someone important, shove off." Meredith teases, the words just flowing out of her as she stays unmoving with her eyes closed.

"I don't know. It's just not me. I just want to be Derek." He answers simply.

"Why can't you be both? Why can't you be Derek with your friends and stuff and then be Duca when you need to be?" She asks, not really seeing the problem.

He seems to think about this for a second, but then responds, "But I don't even know how to be a Duke."

"Yes, you do. You were Duca when we went into that café on the Fiori Imperiali and you were one last night with the driver."

"What do you mean?" He says, propping himself up on his elbow, suddenly sounding a lot more awake.

"You…you…you just have a certain way you act around certain people in certain situations, that's all." Meredith explains, moving her hand around in emphasis but not really being able to explain what she means.

She still has her eyes closed though, so she doesn't see the puzzled look on his face. "I do?" He asks in surprise.

"Yeah, you just…you're just 'Duca' to them." She answers, for the first time lifting up her sunglasses to look at him. She sees the look on his face, so she says, "Not that it's a bad thing. You're just more in charge or something."

"More in charge?"

Meredith thinks for a moment, and then tries to explain with, "Yeah, like last night. If we had been normal tourists, we would have had to have waited for the city bus or paid for a taxi to take us to the town center. And then we would have had to wait for the resort car. Blah, blah, blah. But instead, when we got here you just called them up and they came straight out. You know what I mean?"

"Kind of." He remarks, still looking quite confused though.

"What about the guy at the Imperiali café?" Meredith asks.

"What about him?"

"How long have you known him?"

"Um…about as long as I've known Richard. So, I'd say about five years."

"Is he your friend?"

"No. He's the hostess at the restaurant."

"And he acts like that to every customer?"

"Like what?"

"Like he respects you. Like he wants to be your friend."

"No."

"Does he treat Richard like that?"

"Noooo."

"Would he have given us the best table if it had only been Richard there?"

"Probably not." He admits reluctantly.

Meredith pauses before she poses the next question, but she has to make her point. "Now the question is did you expect him to give you the best table?"

Derek thinks about it for a second, and then responds, "Maybe?"

And she pauses even longer before she asks her next question. "Now, did you expect that because you are Derek or because you are a Duke?"

Derek seems kind of stunned. He lies there, still propped up on his elbow, but then turns over onto his back to stare up at the sky.

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing. I'm just saying it's a part of who you are." She backtracks a little when she sees his reaction. "I act a certain way when I'm at school versus when I'm at home. You're just a certain person in some situations and a certain person in others. It's no big deal." She says with a shirk of her shoulders.

Derek doesn't respond for a couple of minutes, but then finally says, "I just never thought of it that way."

"What do you mean?"

"I guess I just thought it was either something I was or I wasn't."

"Why can't you be both?" Meredith asks, this time it being her turn to prop herself up on her side.

"I guess…I could." He says as he turns back to prop himself back up, facing her from his side of the blanket.

He smiles at her in a way she can't describe. Almost in gratitude. As if a light bulb has suddenly come on. They are now propped up on adjoining blankets, facing each other, separated only by a small amount of sand. They smile at each other in mutual accord, when suddenly the mood in the air shifts between them. The look in Derek's eyes changes and he takes his free hand and starts curling little caresses on the area a little above her left breast.

"You know in Europe, it is perfectly acceptable to go topless at the beach." He suggests a little naughtily.

"Is that so?" Meredith asks with a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Mmhmm." Derek affirms as his eyes watch the path of his finger trailing along the top of her breast.

Meredith's breath turns shallow, but when she talks it is firm and silky. "So I won't get arrested if I do this?" She asks as she turns to undo the back laces. She knows it's allowed, she's seen other women going topless today. She just wants to tease him.

"I am a Duke, you know. I could bail you out." He promises as the laces drop away and the top lets go a little in the front.

The pupils of his eyes get larger and he watches hungrily as she slides the top off and she tosses off and onto the bag. He unconsciously reaches out to touch her, but she brushes him away and lies down on her blanket. "I'm pretty sure the law does say something about touching." She says dampeningly, as she adjusts her sunglasses with a wicked little grin.

Derek does something unexpected though. He reaches up into their bag, takes out his cell phone, and begins dialing.

"Who are you texting?"

"The driver."

"Why?"

"Because we are going back to the hotel."

Meredith pauses in shock, but then busts out laughing.

"Derek Shepherd, are you trying to suggest that you would like to go back to the hotel right now?" She says teasingly.

"I'm not suggesting. Pack up your stuff and get your ass up those stairs right now." He orders good-naturedly, already up and shaking off his towel.

Meredith can only laugh. She gets up languidly, drawing it out just to mess with him. As soon as she lifts herself off of the blanket though, he has grabbed her towel, shakes it out, and throws everything into the beach bag. She throws her sandals on and is forcefully dragged off the beach. Laughing all the way of course.

* * *

_Recommended Soundtrack: 'Time is running out' by Muse_

_**Our time is running out**_

_**Our time is running out**_

_**You can't push it underground**_

_**You can't stop it screaming out**_

_**I wanted freedom**_

_**Bound and restricted**_

_**I tried to give you up**_

_**But I'm addicted**_

_**Now that you know I'm trapped sense of elation**_

_**You'd never dream of**_

_**Breaking this fixation**_

Meredith and Derek are in the back of the resort car: one of those plush mini-luxury cars with leather seats and adjustable privacy screens. Which is currently up (thanks to a coolly slid twenty-euro bill into the palm of said driver by himself). The drive to the resort is only fifteen minutes, at tops, but he is going to take advantage of every second that he's got.

When they left the beach, Meredith had wrapped her upper half with the white sarong, but he was currently trying to inch down as much as he can. They sat in the middle of the back seat of the car, having gotten in from both sides, and instantly met together in the middle. As soon as the door closed, Derek having pulled her body directly up against his and dove in for a kiss. She had turned her body instinctively into his, and even thrown her left leg right over both of his thighs.

Did they seriously still have ten minutes left before they got to the hotel? He didn't think he was going to make it. He had been only mildly playing when he had mildly suggested the topless thing. A guy could try, couldn't he? He hadn't actually expected her actually untie those laces and let it all go. He should have known he was in trouble when she had gotten that little Cheshire cat grin on her face. When she had reached around for the laces, he had wholly expected her to fake him out. It would have served him right for suggesting it.

He hadn't expected the gently release of her breasts from the almost infinitesimal piece of fabric that had been holding them in place. The milky orbs falling free at about the same time he noticed a very obvious tent in his pants. Involuntarily leaning forward to touch them when she stretched upward to toss the now forgotten top somewhere above her head. He had no idea where it went, because his vision had been stuck squarely on the puckered nipples begging him to touch them. He'd swear on his life that they had. Boy scouts honor.

Then she had reminded him about that god damned rule about touching, and his brain had very logically turned to getting her somewhere where there could be touching. Like right now. Like five minutes ago right now. He had momentarily regained some of his brain power when she had covered up. But now they were in a private, well semi-private space, that would lead to an even more private place. Who care if there's a driver that can probably hear everything that they are doing.

Her skin is warm from the suns rays; the smell of the sea and lavender mingling to produce a heady aroma that might just drive him mad. He grabs a hand-full of the afore-mentioned hair and pulls her lips even harder against his own. He doesn't know how they could possibly get any closer, the gloriousness of their tongues already entwined with the other. Her free hand grabs onto his chest and squeezes. Is she trying to make him cum or something? He drops his hand from her hair, grabs on to her ass and pulls her up directly against himself. She gasps deep in her throat, but it is his turn to gasp when she justly returns the favor.

"Fuck Meredith." He pants when she pulls herself away to place hungry little kisses along his neck.

"You started it." She counters, as he literally tries to calm himself. So not working.

"Has it been ten minutes?" He asks, the only thing that his brain can get out with Meredith pressed up against him.

"I have no idea, but we seem to be going through the tunnel."

"Thank God." He says with a groan, as she climbs on top of him, leaning in to bring their lips back together. He closes his eyes and rests his head back against the seat, and prays for the steady bump of the car that indicates they've turned down the resort's dirt road.

A few seconds later his prayers are answered, and he opens his eyes to find her silently laughing at him. She very quickly jumps down into her seat, just in time for the car to come to a full stop and the doors to be opened. There's no way in hell no one is going to not know what they've been up to though. Her hair stands out in wild disarray, her lips swollen with kisses, her eyes glowing. He's sure he's not much better. But she's the one getting the door opened for her.

He opens his own door and jumps out before his sorry state can be known to the entire resort staff. He hears her call out a quiet 'thank you' to the driver and it's not long before she joins him on the other side of the car. She very calmly sidles up next to him and smiles at him expectantly.

"Race you!" He cries out before darting toward their room.

He can hear her giggling from behind him, as he runs the short distance to their room and inserts the key in the lock. He throws it open in time for her to catch up with him, and he reaches underneath her and carries her into the bathroom. It's one of those weird European resort showers where the entire floor is the shower drain and the shower head is actually a giant cylindrical dome hanging from the ceiling. They both have on bathing suits, so he just turns on the spray and lets her down as he pushes her against the wall with his body.

The warm water pours down his back as his warm body presses her into the cool tiles of the bathroom. He grabs on to her hair and yanks her head back to nuzzle his entire face into the sensitive recesses of her neck.

The sarong falls with a quick release of its folds and her bikini bottom is pushed down from both hips with impatient fingers. She pushes his shorts down at the same time, and he leans down to pull her up the wall with hands wrapped around her uppermost thighs. He picks her up, only to slide right in as she wraps her legs around him in welcoming entreaty. He moans with the rightness of it. The all consumingness, the perfectness of being surrounded by Meredith. He pushes into her frantically as she wraps herself around him, internally and externally. God this feels fucking good.

"God, Derek, don't ever stop." She tells him as he pumps frantically into it.

Instead of answering though, he takes her mouth into his again and let's her know with his mouth that he doesn't plan on stopping anytime soon. He can feel her tightening around him, and her breath coming in shorter and shorter segments. All tell-tale signs that she's about to orgasm. His body knows it too, pumping harder and faster to send her over that burning crescendo. He is about to burst when she literally explodes in his arms. The guttural cry from her lips sending his body into paroxysms of delight. And before he knows it, he is so deep that he literally loses himself in her. The racking shudder of her body mirrored by his own. God, he loves her.


	10. Chapter 10

**Okay, so I have to admit that this is probably my most favorite chapter of the entire story. The first suggested song, 'Unintended' by Muse is actually the inspiration for this entire fic. So if you want any hints about what shall come to pass, that's about the best I can do. The outfits that I have them in are the ones from the EW photoshoot from this year. I love those! Oh, and the restaurant is described as exactly how it is in real life. Tres romantic!**

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**_  
_

_Suggested Soundtrack: 'Unintended' by Muse_

_**You could be my unintended**_

_**Choice to live my life extended**_

_**You could be the one I'll always love**_

_**You could be the one who listens to my deepest inquisitions**_

_**You could be the one I'll always love**_

Meredith stands before the mirror in the bathroom trying to primp as much as possible. She has only the small make-up case and the simple hair brush that she had been able to carry in her purse. She has only been able to wash her hair with the hotel shampoo and conditioner samples, but for some reason it has decided to cooperate and now lays in wavy folds down her neck. She looks into the mirror and sees the happy glow that suffuses the features of a woman that has spent the afternoon love-making. After the shower, they had moved out into the bedroom to continue what they had started. For some reason, a ferocity burned between them. Maybe they had both realized at the same time that their time was coming to a close. Maybe the warm rays and the tangy salty air had coalesced into a potent aphrodisiac. She didn't know. All she knew was that the last couple of hours had been ecstasy.

The mirror shows her an image of a woman in love: skin glowing, eyes ablaze with happiness, a smile that just won't go away. A woman in love. Shit. Suddenly the corners of her mouth lose their happy lift and the twinkle in her eyes fades to horrified awareness. What has she done? Fallen in love with a pretty-much-already-married man? This is horrifying, she thinks as she leans on the bathroom sink and tries to draw in as much air as possible. And then she hears a knock on the door. She peaks around the corner to see Derek opening the door. The resort driver stands there holding up two garment bags high above his head. Derek hands him some Euros, takes the bags, and she scurries back around the corner before he can see her.

Derek takes the two garment bags and throws them across the bed. He was certainly glad he had made this decision this morning. He had wanted their last night together to be special. He had wanted it to be something they could look back at and savor. But now, all he can think about is that maybe this is the beginning rather than the end. Maybe this was how it is supposed to be. He loved her. He loved her more than he could remember loving anyone. God, he must have fallen for her that very first moment. Why had it taken him this long to figure this out? He knew why, but he wasn't going to say it out loud. Something to do with an event he was supposed to be at on Sunday. Something that had totally become unacceptable the moment three little words had popped into his mind. How was he supposed to pledge to honor and cherish and love someone else with what he felt for the beautiful creature that was getting ready just on the other side of the wall? He thought he had loved Addie. He knows he has to go to Villa D'este and call it all off. He cringes at the thought. It really isn't fair to his family. It really isn't fair to everyone that has taken such pains to make everything just perfect. It really isn't fair to Addie. But would it be more fair to go through with a love-less marriage because of a promise he had made to his father. Because of what he now realizes was a lack of awareness of what love really felt like?

_**I'll be there as soon as I can**_

_**But I'm busy mending broken pieces of the life I had before**_

_**First there was the one who challenged**_

_**All my dreams and all my balance**_

_**She could never be as good as you**_

This was supposed to be the wedding of the year. Caterers and decorators and florists and hordes of workers have been setting up all week to create a fairy tale land in the world-famous gardens. He thanks his lucky stars that he happened to be sunbathing at that particular spot on that particular morning. Because it wouldn't have been a fairy tale. It would have been a sham. Would he have gotten married on Sunday, and never really known what love was? Would he have gotten married, had a couple of kids, and thought he was happy? He shudders at the thought. But now he doesn't have to. Now he has Meredith. Now he has a shot at real happiness. If only he can get her to agree.

_**You could be my unintended**_

_**Choice to live my life extended**_

_**You should be the one I'll always love**_

He pulls the pale peach chiffon couture dress out of the garment bag and walks toward the bathroom.

"So what are you going to wear tonight?" He teasingly asks as he walks up to the door, knowing she only has the one summer dress. Or she thinks she does.

"You know I only have…" She gets out before she sees him walk into the doorway in only his khaki slacks.

Her breath stops when she sees the elegantly flowing dress in his hand. It is a simple flowing design that starts with a ring of fabric around the neck and flows down in front and back to meet up far below the arm. It is simple, it is elegant, and it is the most beautiful dress she has ever seen.

"So if the bathing suit was for keeping you company, what's that for?" Meredith teases as she leans against the sink and crosses her arms in fake anger.

He doesn't answer. He only comes forward and drops the dress over her head, places a kiss along her temple, and says, "For being you."

There's nothing she can say to that, so she just removes the dress from her neck and starts taking it off the hanger. She removes her worn summer dress and reverently slides the cool chiffon over her body. The dress barely touches her. It just gently glides down to rest in all the right places. Just as it comes to rest, Derek comes back into the doorway wearing a white collared button-down dress shirt and navy blue blazer that draws out the blueness of his eyes. He stops dead in his tracks.

"Are you ready to go?" He asks her as he stares at her in awe.

"Yep." She answers back shortly, glowing at his obvious approval.

"Good." He answers, and they step out to enjoy their evening.

* * *

Meredith and Derek sit in the resort's restaurant. A wonderfully huge outdoor patio really with a brick floor and thatched ceiling, all held up by winding trees that twist their way up through the thatch and into the sky. Small square tables are spaced in long rows on either side of the trees. All give rise to a perfect view of the beach and sea sparkling not 500 ft away. It is dark now though, and the sea is only a hazy moving darkness somewhere beyond the patio. And other than a few lamp lights hanging from the ceiling, the only light is from white twinkle lights wrapped around the patio trees.

They have just finished a wonderful dinner of local delicacies: an appetizer of steamed muscles, salads, and a main course of half-shell prawns. Derek had laughed at the way Meredith had tried to delicately extract the small piece of mussel from the hard shell with the least amount of touching possible. Meredith had teased Derek about picking out every tiny piece of onion from his apparently onion-encrusted salad (she only had a few slices herself). They had both groaned in ecstasy at the butter-drenched prawns and were now sighing over a shared piece of chocolate cake.

"Just hog all the chocolate sauce, why don't you?" Meredith teases as Derek spreads his piece around the tiny plate to sop up as much chocolate sauce as possible.

"Well you ate all of the whip cream." Derek qualifies as he puts the entire bit in his mouth and chews.

"But it was on my section." She argues back as she steals another bit of the chocolately goodness.

"Oh, you mean the entire back half of the cake?" He asks, the whip cream having been dolloped right in the middle of the back part of the slice.

"Yes. Your half is the part facing you, and my half is the part facing me." She explains, as if to a simpleton.

He looks down at the plate, to see that the pointy end is pointing toward him. "But my half is smaller than yours." He remarks despondently.

"Which is why you got the chocolate sauce." She argues back logically. Or maybe semi-logically.

"But you just said…!" He starts to argue, but then she starts to giggle. And then he just can't help giggling too at the absurdity of their conversation. Should he ask her now? They've just shared a really wonderful dinner. She's all happy. He's all happy. Maybe he'll just take another sip of wine first. Maybe if he sips enough wine, the words will magically appear in his brain. How do you tell a woman you've only know for a week that you're pretty sure you've never been this happy in your life, and by the way, I don't think I can get married on Sunday after all?

He picks up his wine glass and takes a very long and slow sip, sets it down, and starts to say, "Meredith…"

She looks up at the strange tone in his voice, but he is interrupted by a man coming to the table and asking, "il sig. e la sig.ra gradirebbero un'immagine?"

"Oh no, that's okay." Derek immediately responds, just wanting to wave the guy away so he can say what he wants to say.

"No, wait." Meredith calls after the guy when he starts to walk away. She turns to Derek and pleads with her eyes. Derek just smiles at her with fondness and waits for the photographer to come back.

He seriously doesn't want a picture? She hadn't even thought of getting a picture of the two of them together. It seems kind of stupid and pathetic even to her own mind, but maybe she could pull out the photograph years from now and smile at the fond memories. Her fond memories of Derek. Because after tomorrow, that's all she's going to have left of him: memories. And now maybe this picture.

"Ah, the bella wants a picture?" The photographer says with a wink. "You scoot close together, and I take picture." He orders in broken English, waving his hand around in emphasis.

They move their chairs closer together, Meredith putting her arm around his lower back and Derek pulling her to him with an arm across her shoulders. They both smile in utter happiness and the photographer clicks away.

"Okay, that was formal one. Now you kiss." The photographer orders jokingly.

Meredith turns to Derek and asks him non-verbally if it's okay, and he just laughingly shrugs his shoulders in agreement. He lovingly takes her face in his hands and places a gentle kiss on her lips. They both hear the click of the camera and reluctantly pull away.

They both silently laugh at their behavior, but are interrupted by the photographer asking, "I drop off at front desk in morning, yes?"

"Um….can we have two copies?" Meredith asks, hating to say it, but having to.

"Certainly. What the bella wants, the bella gets." The photographer agrees, writing it down in his little booklet.

"Thank you." Derek responds, the tone of his voice dismissing the man before them. The man bows his appreciation and sets off for the next table.

"Now." He says, turning to Meredith and taking her hand in his. What could be a better time and place? The cool gentle breeze of the ocean on their backs, the low twinkly lighting of the restaurant.

"Now." Meredith repeats. Why is he looking at her like that? Why does he have to look at her like that? How is she supposed to go home and go on with her life with that smile and those eyes etched into her brain? If she had to say when she first fell in love with him, it would have to be the moment he had first flashed her that smile.

"Meredith…" He tries again, but is interrupted by someone clearing their throat in the middle of the restaurant.

"Ladies and gentleman, the Hotel Club Torre Capovento invites all of its guests to an evening of dancing." The gentleman says with a flourish and points toward a space immediately outside the restaurant patio. A switch is flipped and the area directly between the restaurant and the beach is lit with green, red, and orange lights. Many more twinkle lights are wrapped around trees and verandas, giving off an enchanted vibe. There's even a little raised patio where a man sits at a piano. And as they watch, he starts to play, "Don't Explain" by Herbie Hancock: a slow melodious song that is sad but beautiful. Everyone in the restaurant gasps in delight and claps.

Meredith claps right along with everyone, and turns to Derek with glee and says, "Can we dance? Can we?"

He was going to tell her about his change of plans, but it can wait. The child-like excitement on her face is all it takes for him to do whatever she wants. "Sure." He agrees, and takes her hand to lead her over to the designated dance-floor.

Other couples join them, but it is if no one else in the world exists. Meredith puts her hands on either side of his neck and leans her cheek against his chest. He puts his hands around her back and they stand there hardly moving, slowly swaying on the dance floor. Other couples swirl around in practiced dances, arms-lengths apart and beautiful in their choreography, but Meredith feels safe and warm and happy just swaying up against him.

The music changes and song after song makes its way from the piano man's fingers to the keyboard, but Meredith and Derek stay locked together in form. Meredith holds on to the moment, holds on to him, trying to imprint every last moment onto her memory. Cherishing the feel of him pressed against her. Derek lies caught in the moment, holding on to her in case it is their last too. There's no guarantee she's going to agree to what he is going to say. All she had agreed to was spending this last day with him. She has a life; she maybe has a boyfriend to go home to.

He finally, after what seems like hours, gathers his courage together and asks, "Would you like to go for a walk on the beach?"

"Sure." She answers softly, and they turn to head out between the trees and on toward the beach proper.

They walk in silence until they reach the water. "Thank you for coming with me. To Sperlonga, I mean." He sputters out nervously, taking her hand at the same time.

"You don't have to thank me. I wanted to come." She answers back shyly.

"But with everything…." He begins, but she cuts him off.

"I don't want to talk about that. Please?" She pleads, trying not to ruin this perfect evening, and perfect day, with talk of THAT.

"Alright, but I do have something I want to talk to you about." He tells her, letting it go for the time being. They've still got time.

They walk down the beach in the moonlit night, holding hands and enjoying the peaceful rhythmic crashing of the waves. They walk a ways down the beach, silent in their shared joy. At one point they mutually decide to turn around, and head back the way they've come.

"It's just so beautiful here. I can't believe that no one knows about this place." Meredith says, finally breaking the silence.

"Oh, the Italians want to keep it all to themselves. They won't tell any atrocious Americans about it." Derek teases.

"Am I an atrocious American?" Meredith says in fake-hurt.

"No, you're my bellezza di sonno." He responds teasingly.

"Wait, didn't you say that in your letter too? What does that mean?" She asks, putting the pieces together.

"Not telling." He jokes, the amusement evident in his eyes.

"You are so telling." She orders as she leans over to tickle him in the side.

He runs away a few steps, jaunting out of arms length. She chases after him, so he runs even further up. He comes upon the first of the resort's chairs and thinks that it's the perfect place to ask her. It's outside, it's private, and it's romantic. He comes to a stop and she barrels into him.

"Hey, come sit with me." He asks her, already sitting down in the lounge chair and putting out his arms in invitation.

"But it's dirty. What about my dress?" She says, looking down to pat the fabric lovingly.

"That's what dry cleaning is for. Come on." He orders impatiently, not having been one to ever have to worry about money and all that goes with it.

She reluctantly sits, lies down between his legs, and rests her head back against his chest. He brushes her hair out of her face and they both stare up at the twinkly sky.

"This is nice." She remarks, leaning back to relax even more in his arms.

"Mmm." He agrees non-commitally as he continues to run a hand gently over her hair.

"After an indefinite amount of time, Meredith asks with a yawn, "So what did you want to talk to me about?"

Derek doesn't answer right away. He continues to gently slide his hand repetitively over her hair, and try to think of where to begin.

"Meredith…this has been the most wonderful week." He starts.

"Mhmm." She agrees softly, turning slightly to cuddle up even further into his chest, her left side and right palm now resting against him.

"I never thought it could ever be like this." He admits. He doesn't hear an answer, but he is so caught up in saying what he has to say, that he doesn't notice. "Meredith, I think I love you."

Silence.

Why didn't she say anything? He slightly panics, until he looks down to find her fast asleep, curled up into a little ball of contentment.

"Ah, me bellezza di sonno. I will wake you with a kiss in the morning."


	11. Chapter 11

**This is a short chapter, but it doesn't fit with the last chapter or the next, so it's best standing on its own.**_  
_

_Suggested soundtrack: 'Fools in Love' by Inara George_

Derek wakes up with a jolt. Where is he? Oh, he's still lying in the same lounge chair where him and Meredith were snuggling last night. He must have fallen asleep. Too. Meredith. Where's Meredith? He looks out across the water, and down the beach to see two kids screaming as they run up to the waves and run away before the wave can touch them. That must have been what woke him up.

Did she go up to the room? He sits up and stretches his aching slept-all-night in a lounge chair body, and pushes himself to rest on the edge of the chair. She must be up in the room packing her things. Taking a shower perhaps? Dammit I never got a chance to tell her how I felt. He stretches his arms over his head and notices the sun barely peaking out over the eastern hills. It's still early, but not too early. She said her flight wasn't until the afternoon, so they've got plenty of time. But why didn't she wake him up? A bad feeling starts to grow in the pit of his stomach as he makes his way off the beach and to their room.

The keys are still in his pocket. How did she get in? He walks up to the door of their room and tries the door. Locked. He puts the key in the lock and finds…nothing. No sounds of the shower running, no sounds of someone getting ready in the next room, no sound of anyone present at all. Then he spies a mound of things piled on the bed.

"No, no, no." He says to himself in a rising panic.

There's the dress she wore last night, there's the bathing suit, hat, and sunglasses she wore yesterday. And lying gently on top of it all is a note. A note. His heart literally skips a beat in his chest. He literally has to stop his hand from shaking as he goes to pick up the single sheet of folded up paper. Maybe it was just a note saying that she had gone to town for something. But his shaking hand belies that thought. He opens it and immediately two photos fall to the ground. He bends down and slowly picks them up, to see the bittersweet photos from last night: his arm resting comfortably over her shoulder, her leaning into him like she's meant to be there. Plastered over both of their faces are joyous smiles.

Oh no. He turns the letter over and the first thing he notices is the feminine curves and loops dashing across the page. He reads:

_Derek,_

_I know we planned on going to the airport together. _

_I woke up last night embraced by your warmth and realized _

_that that was how I wanted to remember you. Not sad and _

_mopey, but happy. That that's how I wanted to remember _

_this entire week: laying in your arms. You may call me a coward, _

_you may call me whatever names you can think of, but I simply _

_didn't want to say goodbye. Couldn't say goodbye. So instead, _

_I wish you buona fortuna. Good luck with you marriage, good luck _

_with your life, good luck with finding that happiness that you so_

_desperately seek. I will treasure this week always._

_Simply yours,_

_Meredith_

"Oh, Meredith." He says to himself. Why couldn't she have just stayed? Why did she have to flee? He didn't want to ever say goodbye either. He wants to wake up next to her every day.

Wait a minute, it's not that late. He looks at his watch and sees that it's only 8 am. Her flight isn't until this afternoon. Maybe he could catch her. Decision made, he throws all of their possessions into the garment bag from the night before and darts out of the room. He runs out to find the resort car just now pulling into the drive. Luck must be with him. He runs to the car and throws himself into the back seat before the driver can even turn the car off.

"How much to take me to the airport?" He asks gruffly, pulling his wallet out as he's talking.

"Um…this is the only car the resort has. I can only go to train station and back. You go on train instead?" The driver stutters, totally flustered by Derek's manner.

"You realize I own this resort?" Derek says in a steely don't-mess-with-me voice.

"Yes, sir." The driver stutters.

"Good. Then I don't see a problem here." He orders, clearly the Duke in that moment.

"Yes, sir." The driver agrees as he puts the car in gear and pulls the car around to pass out the resort's driveway.

They pull out of the dirt road and out onto the main road in complete silence. The driver too scared to say anything, Derek too worried that he won't make it in time. He spends the first couple of miles thinking about what he is going to say to Meredith when he sees her. He's not going to wait this time. He's going to shout it from the roof-tops. He's going to beg. He's going to plead with her to stay, if only for a little while. Enough time for him to ends things with Addie. Enough time for him to figure out how they can be together.

They are a couple of miles out when he realizes that he doesn't even know what flight she is on. He takes his cell phone out of his back pocket and begins to dial a travel agent. Then he realizes he doesn't even know what time her plane leaves. Or even what airport she's flying in to. Why did he never ask? He just assumed they were going to the airport together. Idiot! Why didn't you ask? Why didn't you tell her when you had the chance?

He calls airline after airline trying to figure out what flight she is on. He is regaled with flight plan after flight plan that is making its way from Rome to Boston. There's straight shots and one shots, shots through London, and Amsterdam, and New York, and every other European and coastal American city. What does afternoon mean anyway? Did she mean noon or three? Did she mean she had to be there in the early afternoon for an evening flight? What the hell was he doing?

He spends almost the entire drive making calls back and forth to travel agents and airlines and anyone else who could help him. But by the time they reach the airport, he decides his best bet is to just grab a ticket agent and cajole, bribe, beg, or cheat his way into getting the information. The driver pulls up to the departing flights terminal, and Derek jumps out. He turns to the driver though and says, "Drive around, do whatever you want, but I want you to be here when I get back."

"Yes, sir." The driver agrees, and heads off to not block traffic.

He runs into the airport and up to the nearest open ticket booth and says breathlessly, "I was wondering if you could help me. My girlfriend seems to have left her passport here, and I need to get it to her. Could you tell me what gate she's at?"

An older blonde woman in a navy blue outfit looks at him shrewdly. He must look a site wearing the same suit he slept in last night. He's pretty sure his hair is standing on ends and there's bit of sand clinging to his ankles. She doesn't look like she believes him. "I can have her paged here, but persons without boarding passes are not allowed past security." She replies professionally.

Dammit. "Yes, yes, that would be great." He says with his most charming smile.

She seems a little taken aback by the charm, but quickly looks down at her computer. "If you can tell me her name, I can have the appropriate terminal paged."

"Meredith Grey." He says with a sigh, finally able to relax that he may be getting somewhere.

"Is she on this airline?" The woman asks as she flips through various computer screens.

"I think so." He says hesitantly, not wanting to say he doesn't know. He didn't need her any more suspicious than she already was.

"Oh, here she is. Oh, but it looks like you just missed her. It looks like she got on to our earlier 10 am flight, and it's half past now." She says with a professional point of her finger to the nearest clock.

He looks to where her hand points and sees that she is telling the truth. Shit. His world comes crashing down. All of the buoyant energy that had been holding him up suddenly deflates. His shoulders droop and he stands there stunned. She's gone. She's really gone. He utters an absent thank you to the attendant and walks blindly back to the airport entrance. He picks up his phone and dials the driver. He stands on the sidewalk outside of the departure doors in defeat. What is he going to do now? Does he go back to Villa D'este and get married anyway? Isn't that what Meredith wanted for him?

No. He can't do it. He can't go from the euphoria of this week to the blandness that was his life with Addie. Now that he has experienced the headiness that was Meredith, he can't step back and accept anything less. And then it hits him. He does know something about Meredith Grey. He knows her mother is Ellis Grey. The world famous surgeon. He's a surgeon. Richard is a surgeon. They should be able to find her no problem. Just because she is gone now, doesn't mean she is gone forever.

But he has to fix his mess first. The driver conveniently pulls up to the curb. He opens the passenger side back door and gets in a more confident man than the one who had arrived. He sits back in the seat and orders, "Villa D'este." The car pulls away and forward. Onward to the place he has been avoiding all week. Onward to a conversation that he is dreading. He steals himself for the scene to come, but in his heart he knows it's the right thing to do. He loves Meredith. He is going to find her and tell her as soon as he can. But first he has to be a free man. First he has to call off a wedding. His own.

**Please remember to review!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Um, so you may hate me after this chapter. Not that there aren't good things to come, but this was very hard for me to write also. It was always planned this way though, and I had very reasons for doing it how I did. As I said, this story is much more about falling in love. It's about two people questioning what they want to do with their lives. And in order to do that, I had to take everything away. I also see this as the beginning of their coming back to earth. For the last 11 chapters they've been in Rome, getting to know each other, outside their regular lives, floating on happy pink clouds. And now they have to come back to reality. Boy that ground is hard!**

_4 months later…_

"You know I'm going to kick your ass for making me take a 9 am class, don't you?" Christina remarks as they make their way across campus.

"I'm not making you do anything." Meredith says as she rolls her eyes and takes another sip of her coffee. "Since when can I make you do anything you don't want to do? Or anyone, in fact?"

"True." Christina agrees succinctly, but then adds, "But it's till your fault. You're the one that found the class."

"So it's my fault that Dartmouth's only neuroscience class is offered Monday and Wednesday at 9 am?" Meredith amusedly agrees.

"Yep." Christina says with a sip of her coffee. "I just know Stanford's neuroscience class is at a reasonable hour. Like one or something. Stupid New England work ethic or something."

"I am not a baby. You did not have to transfer to Dartmouth." Meredith tells her for about the millionth time, even though she's secretly glad that Christina did. She would never tell Christina that though.

Meredith had come back from Italy a mess. She had told herself that she was fine. She had done the right thing. She had hated tearing herself from his arms like that and leaving him that note. She's surprised it even came out legible with the tears that she wouldn't let fall making her vision mostly blurry and moist. If she closed her eyes, she could still see him laying back on that lounge chair, still wearing the same clothes from dinner, a happy smile on his face.

She must have gone quiet or some emotion splashed over her face, because Christina immediately said, "You aren't thinking about him, are you?"

"No." She immediately says, but they both know that she is lying. That's the reason that Christina is out here in the first place. She was supposed to go to Stanford. She had a full ride and everything. Well, part of the reason. The other part was her mother, but she wasn't going to get into that now.

When Meredith had come back from her trip, she had literally collapsed. Admittedly, it had been a very long trip. She had woken up snugly and warm in Derek's arms that morning even though the sun was not up yet and there was a definitive chill in the breeze coming off of the ocean. She remembers thinking that she never wanted to leave the warmth of those arms. She never wanted to let go. And that scared her. That had freaked her out. This man did not belong to her. This man was getting married the next day. And she had realized that as soon as he opened his eyes, he was no longer going to be hers. She could already imagine the stilted conversation and the awkwardness that would wind its way around them as they both tried to go their separate ways.

So she had decided that she didn't want that. She wanted to remember their time together as it was: happy and carefree and wonderful. She wanted to remember the way his eyes twinkled in happiness when he was trying to tease her. She wanted to remember the playful and flirtatious manner in which all of their conversations seemed to end up. She wanted to remember the way he would wind his fingers through her hair as if she was the most precious thing in his world. She wanted to remember them as happy. She wanted to remember them as a couple.

So she had taken the key from his pocket, gone up to the room, showered and packed, and written that letter. When she had gone to the front desk to find the driver, the pictures had already been lying there with their room number on them. So she had gone back and put them in the letter, and silently made her way back to the lounge chair to put the keys back in his coat pocket. She had done it as quietly as she could, hardly touching him for fear of waking him. Or she would have never been able to ever let go.

So she had gotten in the car and told the driver to take her to the train station. Where she had taken the express train straight to the airport. Where she had talked a flight agent into getting her on an earlier flight. Why stick around if she didn't have to? She doesn't really remember the flight home. She knows it was long and she knows it was boring. But after the flight allotment of alcohol was reached, she had floated into a semi-drunken stupor of non-awareness. It had been daylight when she had gotten in to Boston, but that didn't stop her from taking a cab all the way back to her apartment and falling straight into bed.

Which is where she had stayed. Not for an evening, not for a day, but for weeks. The first night she had truly been exhausted and slept for who knows how long. The second day she had just felt achy all over, probably the hang-over, so she had just decided to stay in bed. She had a television in her room. There was take-out. There was the Discovery channel. There was all those cool medical shows where they gave you clues and you had to try and guess what the person had. Or better yet, the shows where they showed surgeries right on the screen. Meredith found those fascinating.

So that's where she stayed for weeks. Mostly lying in bed watching television, occasionally getting up to answer the door if she actually got a craving for something to eat, or switched her tv watching to the living room. Her phone rang, but she didn't answer it. Things happened in the world, but she didn't pay attention to them. She refused to read a paper, go on the internet, or switch to a channel that might on the slimmest chance even offer one bit of news about the Italian 'wedding of the year'.

Some weeks later, she had been sitting watching some show about the poor miserable lives of penguins. They had just gotten to the part where an endless procession of female penguins were traipsing across the frozen arctic tundra, when there was a knock on the door. She hadn't ordered anything. Or had she? She didn't know. It didn't really matter. She usually just ate a couple bites of it and threw it in the trash anyway. She wearily got up off the couch with the blanket still huddled around her and opened the door.

"So you're not dead." A golden-tanned Christina had asksed from the door, no-nonsense in her designer duds and sunglasses.

She hadn't wait for an answer, and Meredith had been too tired to give her one anyway, so Christina had just barged in and taken a long look around. Everything had been in complete disarray. Half-eaten containers of food, empty bottles of pop, pizza boxes, and whatever else she had picked up and dropped next to where she was sitting had been all around the living room couch and on the kitchen counter.

Christina had taken a clear assessment of the damage and succinctly asked, "What the hell happened?"

At first she didn't answer, still in the half-numb, half-aware state she had been living in. But then her lips started to tremble and her eyes started to water and she finally let herself cry. Christina had taken her in her arms and let her cry. She had cried for quite a while. And when she had finished crying, she had told her about her trip. She told her about Derek. She told her everything. About meeting him on the steps, about touring the sites with him, about sleeping with him, about Sperlonga, about how he's a Duke, about how she had fallen in love with him even though he was engaged to be married. About how he was probably married right this second. About how she had left him with a note. A note, for God's sake. Everything. And Christina had soaked it all in. Listened to every last word. Let her talk herself horse until there was nothing left to say. And then she had turned to her and simply asked, "So what do you do now?"

And Meredith had succinctly answered, without a thought in her head, "I want to go to medical school."

And that had been that. She had seen what happened when you let other people ruin your destiny. She had seen what duty and responsibility had done to Derek. He was married to a women he didn't even know if he really loved. Oh yes, she remembered that drunken conversation. If she admitted it to herself, it was probably what made her agree to go on that trip with him. That small glimmer of hope that maybe he could feel something for her. Oh, he had told her that that day at the beach was the happiest he could remember being. But it hadn't changed anything. He had still gotten married. He was probably married to her right now, trying to be happy married to a woman he didn't even know if he loved or not.

She wasn't going to be like that. If she had taken away anything from that experience, it was that she was going to live her life doing the things that made her happy. And being a doctor was something she had always wanted. She was going to be a doctor. She was going to be a good doctor. She was going to be a surgeon. Screw her mother. Screw anyone who said she couldn't do it. Which was pretty much what she had told Christina after Christina had ordered her to take a shower and get dressed and go out drinking with her. And Christina had decided to go to medical school with Meredith too. Fuck her mother. Fuck California and its freakin' sunshine. And fuck anyone who tried to get in their way.

Which is how they found themselves, three months later, walking to their first class at Dartmouth. Meredith in jeans and a light black corduroy jacket, and Christina in designer jeans and a designer brown leather jacket. They looked like two hot broads. They felt like two hot broads.

Christina opens the door to their building and says, "I swear, if you don't start thinking about him any less, you're going to start deluding yourself that he's everywhere."

"I wasn't thinking…" Meredith starts as she opens the door to their classroom, but then stops in horror.

Scrawled across the auditorium chalkboard is the name "Dr. Derek Shepherd" in very large bold cursive lettering. And standing over the podium looking down at his notes is one very familiar figure dressed in dark blue jeans and a dark blue jumper over a collared light blue shirt. A man she had last scene rumpled up on a lounge chair in Italy.

Christina bumps into her from behind, and her coffee spills out over her hand. Unthinkingly, she yells out a very loud, "Shit.", and his head swivels in her direction.

* * *

_Suggested Soundtrack: 'Broken' by Seether feat_

'_**Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome**_

_**And I don't feel right when you're gone away**_

_**You've gone away, you don't feel me anymore**_

Derek sits in his new office staring at his empty computer screen. He had come straight here after class, not really knowing where else to go. Sure he could probably check emails and get organized and all that good stuff, but instead he just sits there not even able to turn his computer on. The entire far wall of his office is a window, giving splendid views of the New Hampshire campus, but he doesn't look out. He sits staring at a blank computer screen mentally replaying the events of not even two hours ago.

He thought he was over this, he thought he was over her. But apparently not. Because when he had heard that familiar explicative, his head had swiveled of its own accord and his heart had soared; the shouted word transporting him back to that fateful summer morning when his world had changed forever. He had half expected to find her wearing the same Roman sundress and sandals he had seen her for most of that week. But when he looked up, he had seen an entirely different girl. Not the care-free summer goddess he remembered, but the quintessential medical student in jeans and a petite jacket. Who was he kidding? This was probably the real Meredith. The Meredith he had never gotten to see. The Meredith that had broken his heart.

_**Cause I'm broken when I'm open**_

_**And I don't feel like I am strong enough**_

'_**Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome**_

_**And I don't feel right when you're gone away**_

What was he talking about? He had only known her for a week. A week that had changed his life forever, but apparently had left her unmoved. How could she have done that to him? He remembered being so full of hope. Being so full of conviction that he was doing the right thing. Being so full of love.

_The car had pulled up the Villa D'este entrance at the top of the Tivoli hill. It was mid-afternoon, and he was surprised to find that it was eerily quiet. He would have expected caterers and florists and event planners to be running around in competent frenziness. Maybe they were all down by the waterfront._

_He walks through the house, seeing the house partially set up for the main event tomorrow. White table-cloths and settings haphazardly placed on some tables and not on others. From room to room he goes, seeing the same state of abandonment, akin to the scene in sleeping beauty where the fairies sprinkle sleeping dust and everyone falls asleep where they stand. Except there are no pages and servers sleeping under the tables. There's only abandoned silverware and a quietness that is eerie in the midst of all of this chaos._

_He steps out through the last door of the house and onto the first section of the garden. Again, the only sound he hears the loud far-away roar of the fountains in the garden below. He winds his way down the long concrete garden path that runs parallel to the house in a long descending ramp, the click of his heels on the pavement the only sound. There should be people here. There should be an army or workers milling down below. What the hell is going on?_

_He fairly jaunts down the long straight staircase that takes him down the terraced garden and into the heart of the Villa: the long series of rectangular pools that lead to the crowning glory of three-story high fountains. To where the altar was supposed to stand. Where chairs were supposed to be set up in perfectly spaced rows for the crème of Italian and New York society to witness his nuptials on the morrow. Instead there is nothing. _

_He walks up and down the gardens looking for anyone, but gives up after a while. He decides that the only thing to do is to head back to the hotel where the rehearsal dinner is supposed to be. He's sure they'll let him check in early. He's still wearing the same suit from last night, and the sand in his shoes and hair is really starting to bother him. He pays the driver a hefty sum and makes his way to the hotel on foot. He passes by many curious stares that he attributes to his wrinkled and sandy attire. His mistaken impression is soon rectified though when he approaches the front desk and asks to check into his room._

"_Ah, yes, the lady said to give you this when you checked in." The hotel clerk remarks censoresly as he hands him a manila envelope with 'Derek' written on the top of it._

"_Thank you." He answers regally, trying to hide his confusion with authoritative clipped words._

_He takes his room key and the envelope and catches the elevator to the top floor. He leans back as the elevator rises and opens the envelope. Inside is a single folded newspaper clipping with today's date proudly displayed on top. And underneath is a large blown-up black and white picture of him and Meredith kissing for the photographer last night. He doesn't have to read the caption or the story that goes with it to know what this means. His lungs freeze in his chest in shock as the elevator pings open. He walks forward in a state of shock, not quite able to get a handle on what is happening. _

_He is barely able to control his breathing as he unlocks the door to his room and notices a man's jacket on the floor. That's not right. That shouldn't be there. He walks down the long foyer, the envelope still clasped in his hand. And then he knows. He knows what he's going to see. But that doesn't stop him from walking forward. Forward to the room that him and Addie were supposed to have shared their evening after the wedding. The room where his soon-to-be ex-fiancée and as-of-this-moment ex-best friend lay fucking. On his bed. In his room. In his hotel. Oh, the irony._

He remembers standing there, witnessing this scene that would have normally sent him into a rage. But it doesn't. He actually had felt something akin to…relief? Not that he hadn't been angry. No, it certainly took a very diabolical mind to set something up like that. And then he had gotten kind of sad. It's not like he had been an innocent party. He and Addie had been friends at some point. He had thought enough of her to have once thought she would make him a good wife. Or his father had. He just didn't really know anymore.

Without making a sound, he had turned around, walked back down the long hallway, gone back down the elevator, and requested a different room from the front desk. Where he had showered, gotten a bell boy to retrieve his suitcase, and waited. He was pretty sure she had known he was there. And sure enough, within the hour a succinctly written note with the words, "Drinks 5?" was scrawled across her own personal stationary. How appropriate. How impersonal. How Addie.

So he had taken the next couple of hours to confirm and rectify what he was certain was going to be a very unpleasant couple of weeks. He hadn't even known how to get a hold of the caterers and wedding planners, so he had done the next best thing: called his sister Kathleen. Who told him simply that yes, the wedding had been called off, and that he might want to give their mother a few days before he tried to talk to her, and hung up. He can't imagine what it must have been like for his family to have opened up their morning papers and seen that. Which had prompted his next call to the public relations firm his father had kept on retainer. No wonder people in the street had been giving him those looks.

He remembers sitting in a corner table of the hotel's restaurant waiting for Addie to show up. She of course had been fifteen minutes late and showed up looking like a page from a fashion magazine: designer clothes with two-inch high heels and nary a hair out of place. He would have smiled at her show of panache, but it probably would have made things worse. She had sat down with a ramrod stiff spine and waited for him to speak. Her eyes daring him to come up with an excuse good enough for the cancellation of the 'wedding of the year'.

"_I'm sorry." He says, the only words he can think of to express everything that he is feeling at that moment._

_She must see something in his face, because she deflates a little and says, "I'm sorry too."_

"_You're sorry?" He asks in confusion._

"_For Mark." She says, not needing to elaborate, for he knows exactly what she means._

"_It's alright. I deserved it." He says without looking at her._

"_That's not what I meant. That wasn't the first time." She admits, and this time it's her that can't look him in the eye._

"_How long?" He asks, not sure if he really wants to know the answer, but needing to know anyway._

_She kind of shakes her head in an uncertain gesture and smiles as she says, "Weeks, months, years. I don't know."_

_Derek sits back in his chair in shock and listens to her next words. "I think I've been in love with him for a while. You've just been so…distant." She says, finally able to look at him when she says that last word. "For a long time. Every time you didn't show up to a dinner invitation, every time you would go off by yourself, Mark was just sort of there. Not that that's any kind of excuse or anything." She finishes with a sigh as she leans back in her chair._

_He looks at this woman he thought he knew so well, and discovers that he doesn't know her at all. She's perfectly right. He has been distant. He's been distant to those around him, he's been distant to his friends and family, he's been distant to himself. He had only just realized this week how far removed he had gotten from himself. It had taken a grouchy little sprite called Meredith to make him take that hard look at himself._

"_I really am sorry." He finally says, telling her with his eyes just how sorry he really is._

_She takes a hard look at him, but then takes a sip of her water. She places the glass back on the table, and seems to come to a decision._

"_So who's the girl?" She asks as one friend might say to another, harkening back to the days before their friendship had been piled on with romantic and familial expectations._

"_Meredith Grey. You've probably heard of her mother: Ellis Grey." He tells her, truly speaking to the true Addie for the first time in a long time._

_She certainly does know who Ellis Grey is, and they talk about her for a while. He kind of tells her the abridged version of how he met Meredith. And he tells her about all of the questions and hard truths he has been asking himself ever since his father died. And for the first time in a very long time, they are the Addie and Derek of long ago. The good friends that maybe should have never been more than that. They sit and they talk about their lives for a good hour or so and then part ways congenially. There's too much history and bad feelings for them ever to be considered best friends anymore, and he has no idea what he's going to say to Mark, but they at least part on good terms._

Maybe he wouldn't have been so nice if he hadn't had the shining promise of Meredith in his heart. Maybe they would have had a friendly but absent marriage right now that would have ended with one of them having an affair. He didn't know. But he was glad that it had ended so well. That they could still be, if maybe not friends, friendly acquaintances. He was in fact invited to their wedding set to take place at the Ritz Carlton in New York City this winter. Not as the best man, but it was still an invite. He was happy for them. He really was.

He wished everything had worked out as smoothly for him and Meredith. He had left the restaurant that night full of dreams and the future him and Meredith could have. He had gone straight back to his room and called Richard for Ellis Grey's number. He had had to wait until later in the evening to reach her at her office first thing in the morning eastern standard time. Where he had been informed that her daughter was only five years old, and any grown man that wanted anything to do with a five year old was sick, and had hung up on him.

He had thought it was weird at the time, but he hadn't given up. He had been mired in cleaning up the mess that was his non-existent wedding and darting the media that wanted a word with the "Double Dealing Duke", but he still searched for her. He did a google search and discovered that she had been a student at Harvard University. How did he not know that? She had been down so much on her abilities, that he hadn't even suspected that she was a graduate of one of the best colleges in the country. That mother must have done a number on her. Through some finagling and string-pulling, he had even managed to obtain her cell phone number and home address. A number which he called for weeks with no answer. An address for which he visited many times once he had finally been able to wrap up his father's business interests and head over to the states. But he hadn't given up. Well, not until the day he had seen enough.

He remembers that day too clearly to ever forget. The feeling of nervousness and pent-up excitement that had been boiling within him ever since the day he had missed her at the airport. After the dissolution of his marriage, his fondest wish had been to jump on the next plane to Boston. At first he just didn't even know where to go. It had taken a couple of days for his contacts to even get back with him with her address and phone number. Vendors still had to be paid, guests had to be told about the cancellation of festivities, and a million other things that Addie had left in his hands as her and Mark had jetted off to enjoy the honeymoon trip. Someone had to get some kind of use out of it. Finally, his mother had agreed to take care of debacle that was the wedding cleanup. Under the condition that he finish cleaning up his father's business interests.

So he had hired a business manager, and flown around Europe meeting all of his father's old business associates. His father had always told him there was nothing better to boost morale than a face to face interview. It had taken him a lot longer than he had thought, contracts and decisions and paperwork having piled up during his father's lengthy illness. But every day he called her. He called in the morning, he called in the evening, he called whenever he got a chance. But it always went straight to voicemail. He even had a private detective agency confirm that it was her number. It was.

As weeks had gone by, his calls had gotten less and less frequent. He had even tried her mother again, only to be told she was on vacation. It seemed that luck just hadn't been with him. Doubt had started to creep in. Why wasn't she answering her phone? Had something happened to her? Was she screening her calls? Why not pick up just once? And as the weeks went by: just what had he meant to her? Just what did he really know about her? He hadn't known she went to Harvard. She had never told him her flight plans. Was she even Ellis Grey's daughter? Ellis claimed that her daughter was only five years old!

As each phone call went unanswered, and more time went by, these questions started to fill his mind. Just what had he done? Embarrassed himself, subjected himself to ridicule, subjected his family to ridicule, for what? For a woman that he had known for barely a week? How did he even know her name was Meredith? He had never seen her driver's license, or any form of identification. All he knew about her was what she had told him. She could have been anyone.

Until one day, a month to the day he had called off his wedding, he found himself on her doorstep. Or the doorstep of one Meredith Grey. An old-fashioned townhouse in one of Cambridge's older neighborhoods. He had gone straight from the airport, the ancient street lamps and passing cars the only illumination. With the time changes and the jet lag he hadn't even known what time it was.

_There were still people milling around, so it couldn't be that late. He told the cab-driver to wait, not sure if anyone would even be home. He had given up long ago trying to reach anyone at the number he had been given. He bounds up the steps, not able to contain his excitement and then pauses in trepidation when the time actually comes to knock. He has been waiting a long time for this moment. He has no reason to think that she will even be happy to see him. The butterflies stir around in his stomach and he bounces from one foot to the other, not quite able to get up the nerve to actually knock. He can do this. She will be happy to see him. He couldn't have just imagined the connection between them. _

_He knocks. He hears the sound reverberate through the house. Another car passes down the quiet street. He's about to knock again, when he hears someone walk up to the door. The dead bolt turns in the lock, and he holds his breath in anticipation. The door opens, and he's met with…._

_A half naked man. Or boy. He doesn't look quite old enough to be a man. Is this Finn?_

"_Oh, I thought you were the pizza delivery guy." The boy answers sheepishly, wiping his face like someone who has just woken up. He is shirtless and looks like he barely had enough time to throw some pants on and come downstairs._

_Derek just kind of stares at him for a moment, not able to come up with something to say. Then he pulls himself together and asks, "Does a Meredith Grey live here?"_

_The boy seems a little surprised at the question. "Oh, yeah, Meredith. She's upstairs taking a shower. You want to come in and wait for her to come down?"_

_He doesn't quite know what to do. _

"_Look, um…" He says, pausing long enough to indicate he's looking for the fellow's name._

"_Roger." The guy supplies._

_Roger? Not Finn then. His mind reels. "Um…Roger." He says with a friendly smile that he does not feel. "I'm an old acquaintance of Meredith's. I just got into town and would like for her to call me." He tells the youth and hands him a business card with his cell phone and email address on it._

_The youth looks at the card and reads, "Dr. Shepherd."_

_The guys either a little slow on the uptake or drunk, one or the other, he ascertains._

"_Could you just make sure she gets that?" He asks, already putting away his wallet and taking a step back. If he's going to talk to Meredith, it's not going to be in front of this idiot._

_The boy says he will, and the door is closed again._

He had gone back to New York and waited for her to call. An entire week of asking himself just what the hell he was doing. An entire week hoping that had been her roommate. His family was still back in Italy, his ex-best friend and ex-fiance were on his Balinese vacation, and his practice was no more, so he pretty much sat in his apartment and waited. Occasionally he fielded some business calls from his business manager and caught up on his medical reading, but generally he just waited for her to call. And she never did.

Then he did something he totally despised. He made one last visit to Boston. He had needed to make one last attempt to see her. The guy could have just never given her the card. Where he had seen her kissing a man that was not Roger. And the night after that, a different man. And the night after that, a different one than that. Until he just couldn't stomach it anymore. She had warned him, hadn't she? Something about inappropriate men and tequila? And he started to rethink their time together. Their first night together had been just such an occasion. Copious amounts of alcohol and little sense. What a little bitch. What was her excuse for the rest of the trip then? Who wouldn't say no to a day at an Italian resort with a real-life Duke? Had the righteous indignation been an act? Had in all been an act?

He didn't know, but the next few days and weeks are a bit hazy on his part. He remembers going back to New York feeling like a knife had been rammed right into the center of his heart. He remembers questioning what it had all been worth. He called off a wedding, disrupted his entire life, for what? For a little tramp that had used him like a second fiddle. Pulled his strings, tested his limits, made him think, and then threw him to the wolves. He had been angry at her, angry at the injustice of it all, and most of all angry at himself.

Until one day he had gotten over it. It hadn't been easy, it hadn't been simple, but he had done it. He had taken a hard look at himself, and he had taken a hard look at his life, and asked himself for the first time, just what exactly did he want? He had no job to tie him down, he had no wife or girlfriend to be considerate of, and he had no father trying to tell him what to do. Just what did he want? And after long and quiet deliberation he had it: he wanted to be a neurosurgeon. He wanted to be the best damn neurosurgeon there was.

So he had called Richard up. He had called all the contacts he could think of and asked about neurosurgeon jobs. And this one had popped up. Their regular neuron professor had just up and quit unexpectedly, and they needed someone pronto. Dartmouth had one of most state-of-the-art neurology department in the country and had put their money where their mouth was in getting him to sign with them. The only codicil being that he had to teach this class. It was a medical school, after all. He could have guest lectures, and the former professor had everything planned out already, so he had readily agreed.

What he hadn't counted on was being HER being here. Just what were the odds of the one person he never wanted to see again showing up in HIS class? That after all that searching and calling and making an ass of himself she would just magically appear on the first day of class. He really hadn't known what to do. They had stared at each other across the auditorium, and he had momentarily been transported to that joyous week. But then all the things that had happened after poured into his mind, and he turned away. He handed out syllabuses. He ignored her. He talked about class goals and class objectives and never once looked in her direction. And when class had been over, he had gathered up his stuff and come here. To stare at an empty computer screen.

He is so caught up in his memories that he doesn't hear the soft tread of the self-same object of his thoughts approach the door.

"Der….I mean, Dr. Shepherd." He hears stuttered in a low familiar voice behind him.

He whirls around and just stares at her. The same cat-like emerald eyes that he remembers teasing him and cajoling him and staring right into his soul, stare back at him. The hair is the same: The golden highlights framing her face, the wavy lengths resting over her shoulders. The clothes are different, but that's expected. This isn't the same girl that he met on those steps though. There is no spunk, there is no flippancy, there is no bristliness. Only an apprehension that is belied by the rhythmic twisting of her tiny watch in circles around her wrist.

"Mm…Ms. Grey." He says flatly, schooling his face to express nothing.

The watch twisting stops. Her spine straightens.

"You're teaching here?" She asks tentatively, but with a little more strength than when she greeted him.

"Yes." He answers simply, not willing to give any more than that.

She looks at him questioningly, but then straightens even more. "The course listed a different professor." She says, a statement, not a question.

"It was a recent decision." He grudgingly reveals, staying just as straight and unmoving as her.

She's angry now. He can tell. "Should I drop the class?" She asks, almost like a dare.

"I don't see why. It's not like we knew each other for very long. The TA's will be grading the homework, and all tests are done by student number. You'll just be another number in my grade book." He says with a purposely hurtful tone. She hurt him. It's not the most professional thing to do, but in that moment he doesn't care.

Her eyes flare in surprise and for a moment he is sorry. But then she pulls in her breath, and her eyes shoot daggers his way. "Fine." She declares coldly, turns around, and leaves.

"Fine." He grumbles to himself as he watches her flaunt down the hallway.


	13. Chapter 13

**Okay, so I hope you guys are still with me! I know that last chapter was a bit heavy and depressing. But it had to happen. No pain, no gain, right? But anyway, this was meant be a fun summer story, so expect a lot of laughter with the angst. I dedicate this chapter to anyone whose ever had a really hot prof. Eye candy is good for the brain, right? ;-) Oh, and there shall be some foul language down below. Perfectly justified, I assure you. To my characters at least!  
**

_Suggested soundtrack: 'Bloody Mother Fucking Asshole' by Martha Wainwright_

_**Poetry is no place for a heart that's a whore**_

_**And I'm young & I'm strong**_

_**But I feel old & tired**_

_**Overfired**_

_**And I've been poked & stoked**_

_**It's all smoke, there's no more fire**_

_**Only desire**_

_**For you, whoever you are**_

_**For you, whoever you are**_

Meredith and Christina sit at Murphy's, or more locally known as Murphy's on the Green: a locale hang-out of the Dartmouth crowd that had been dubbed "Most popular restaurant in the Upper Valley" for nine years running. A quaint little Irish bar, turned restaurant, located at the corner of Dartmouth Green. But that's not why Meredith and Christina are there. They wanted to get drunk. And drunk they are. Sure, it's the first day of classes. What could two bright eyed and bushy med school students possibly have to complain about barely more than 12 hours into the semester? Apparently, a lot.

"So, what did that asshole say to you again?" Christina asks, both of them far enough into their chosen spirits as to have achieved a heady state of philosophical nirvana.

"That I would just be another number in his grade-book." Meredith grumbles as she clumsily breaks a peanut in half and lets the shell bits fall where they may.

"Asshole." Christina responds, just as angry as if it had been her that he had said that to.

_**You bloody mother fucking asshole**_

_**Oh you bloody mother fucking asshole**_

_**Oh you bloody mother fucking asshole**_

_**Oh you bloody mother fucking asshole**_

_**Oh you bloody mother fucking asshole**_

_**Oh you bloody...**_

_**I will not pretend**_

_**I will not put on a smile**_

_**I will not say I'm all right for you**_

"Mcmarried asshole." Meredith agrees dazedly, but then adds, "And currently my neuroscience professor that I had the best sex of my life with." Her head drops into her hands that are currently resting on the bar.

Christina is quiet for a moment. There really isn't anything you can say after a statement like that. After a while though, she does grudgingly admit, "He looks like he'd be good." As she stares off into the distance.

"You are so not helping." Meredith mumbles from beneath her arms.

"Do you think he's some kind of philandering Don Juan of Duke's that preys on innocent American girls as they tumble out of the plane?" Christina asks as the alcohol sloshes around in her brain and cuts off any barriers connecting her brain to her mouth.

"Still not helping." Meredith mumbles again, still not moving from her defeated position.

Christina ignores her. "I wonder if the wife knows." She wonders, and then a light bulb goes off over her head, and she proceeds to scavenge around in her purse for something.

This prompts Meredith to finally lift her head, but only enough to see what Christina is doing.

"No one messes with my person." Christina mumbles to herself as she continues to rummage through her purse.

"What are you doing?"

"You'll see." Christina promises with relish, and then cries "Aha!" as she pulls out her palm pilot and turns it on.

"You better not be doing what I think you're doing." Meredith warns as Christina begins to type away on the tiny keyboard.

"What was her name again? Allison? Ambrosia?" Christina asks, totally ignoring any misgivings on Meredith's part.

"Addison." Meredith grumbles, knowing that nothing she says is going to change Christina's mind. Instead, she moves closer and tries to see what Christina is doing.

Christina swivels her bar stool to the right so Meredith can't see.

"Hmm. No Addison Shepherd. Maybe she kept her maiden name. Let's try google." Christina says to herself as she types away and then gasps.

"What?" Meredith demands, peering over Christina's shoulder to try and make out what is shocking enough to ruffle her usually stoic friend.

Still staring at the tiny screen, and appearing to be scrolling, Christina declares, "He is so NOT married."

"What do you mean?" Meredith demands, literally turning her friend around to make her tell her what the hell is going on.

"Dr. Derek Shepherd, Duke of Savoy. You're sure that's who you shared the best week of your entire life with?"

"I'm certain. Why?" Meredith asks in confusion.

"He's not married then." Christina declares with finality and hands the palm pilot to Meredith.

Meredith hesitantly picks up the tiny device and is surprised to see pages and pages of news stories with titles like, "The Double Dealing Duke", "Wedding of the Year Cancelled Over Groom's Infidelity", and many other such awful things. Most have symbols to indicate that they have been translated from Italian, but some even have Associated Press and CNN typed out underneath. She clicks on one story, only to gasp at the picture of her and Derek smiling back at her from what could only be their last dinner together.

"But he was wearing a ring. I saw it. A big giant gold thing with a big 'S' on it." Meredith utters in disbelief.

Christina takes the palm pilot from her and is clearly amused by the picture in the window. "Just when I think you are boring, you rise!" She declares as she continues to scroll through story after story in rapid amazement.

Meredith is too shocked to say anything.

"According to this, this picture came out the day before the wedding." Christina relays as she continues to flip from one story to the next.

"The day I flew home." Meredith comments dazedly.

"And the bride immediately cancelled the wedding."

Meredith's mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

"They do not know who the mystery woman is, but the last Duke of Savoy was known to have a score of mistresses. A lot of talk about the son following in the father's footsteps and a bunch of other crap." Christina finishes and puts the machine down.

"You know what this means, right?" Christina asks with barely suppressed excitement.

"What?" Meredith asks, not really wanting to ask, but doing it anyway.

"You are an international floozy!" Christina announces with a huge smile.

If at all possible, Meredith's jaw drops even farther.

"I think this deserves another drink!" Christina announces with a congratulatory jab to Meredith's shoulder.

Meredith thinks that is a great idea.

* * *

_Recommended Soundtrack: 'I'm Not Okay' by My Chemical Romance_

_**Well if you wanted honesty, that's all you had to say.**_

_**I never want to let you down or have you go, it's better off this way.**_

_**For all the dirty looks, the photographs your boyfriend took,**_

_**Remember when you broke your foot from jumping out the second floor?**_

_**I'm not okay**_

_**I'm not okay**_

_**I'm not okay**_

_**You wear me out**_

Derek sits in a soft plushy couch that is the staple of all of Starbuck's pseudo Northwest decorated coffeehouses. In one hand is a full cup of venti double espresso and in the other a print-out of his upcoming lecture. The professor that had quit had put together a very comprehensive lesson plan meant to introduce the basics of neuroscience, but that didn't mean he could teach it to the students. He could diagnose a neurological injury a mile away, pick out an aneurysm from a blurry CT, and perform brain surgery with the best of them, but he had no idea if he could teach that to someone else.

He has spent the past couple of days familiarizing himself with his new job. He spent the rest of Monday getting up to speed on administrative stuff, but Tuesday had been his first full day at the hospital. God, it had been great! While he had been standing there yakking it up with some of his new colleagues, a five-car pile-up had been brought in to the ER. He had been thrown right into the ring, and he loved it. The fast-thinking, the fast-moving, and the stamina it took to save lives. It brought back the way he used to feel every day in his surgical residency. Why had he ever moved to private practice? Oh yeah, Addie. Which brought him back around to Meredith. Why couldn't he just forget about her?

It didn't help that she was now a student in his class. It didn't help that the woman who had ripped his heart out and stomped on it would now be a routine part of his Mondays and Wednesdays. No, that didn't make anything easier at all. It didn't matter that the entire time that he had been lecturing on Monday it had taken every inch of his willpower NOT to look at her. No matter that the entire time she had been standing in his office, he had just wanted to shout "Why?!" Why didn't you answer my phone calls? Why didn't you answer my messages? Why even talk to me in the first place? Why even take the time to come to my office? Why even come back into my life when I was just starting to get over you?

Just as he is about to take the morning's first sip of his tasty brew, he notices one very familiar women, and who he is beginning to realize is her Asian sidekick, waltzing into the Starbuck's. Because his day was just bright and shiny as it was! It's not enough that they find themselves in the same class. Apparently they have the same taste in coffee.

_**What will it take to show you that it's not the life it seems?**_

_**(I'm not okay)**_

_**I've told you time and time again you sing the words but don't know what it means**_

_**(I'm not okay)**_

_**To be a joke and look, another line without a hook**_

_**I held you close as we both shook for the last time take a good hard look!**_

_**I'm not okay**_

_**I'm not okay**_

_**I'm not okay**_

_**You wear me out**_

"I can't believe you bought a motorcycle." Meredith tells the Asian woman as they walk forward to get in the drink line. They face away from him, and he's a little off to their right, so they don't see him sitting there. The other woman is wearing the same brown leather jacket she had worn to class on Monday, but this time she has a motorcycle helmet under her arm. His vision barely registers the fact though as his eyes are drawn immediately to the woman he would like nothing more than to just simply forget.

He takes a hard look at this woman, trying to figure out just what it is about her that had drawn him in that fateful summer day. She looks like any other college student: long-sleeved bright orange sweater with tight jeans, serviceable campus-walking shoes, and messenger bag thrown over her shoulder with what must be books and such. What does this little sprite of a creature have that had so completely fooled him into thinking that she had cared about him just as much as he had cared about her? He couldn't have made it all up in his head. Could he?

"I can't believe you went home with 'Mr. You-Have-To-Get-To-Know-Me-To-Love-Me' guy." Christina retorts with air-quotes around the name.

Oh God, he didn't have to sit and listen to this. He starts to get up, when he hears Meredith respond sarcastically with, "What? I'm just trying to live up to my moniker."

The barista calls out to them for their drink order before the other woman can respond. Moniker? What the hell are they talking about? He pauses as they order their drinks, and then hears the other woman tell Meredith, "What? World Sluteth Supremeth isn't enough for you?"

What?! What did that woman just call her? He's about to jump up and intervene, when he hears Meredith call back, "Bitch". Was she laughing when she said that?

"Whore." The other woman says back to her as her drink is put up on the ready stand.

"Slut." Meredith calls back as she grabs her own ready drink. She has to turn slightly to pick up her drink, so he can actually see that she is smiling as she says it. He is stunned.

_**Forget about the dirty looks**_

_**The photographs your boyfriend took**_

_**You said you read me like a book, but the pages all are torn and frayed**_

_**I'm okay**_

_**I'm okay!**_

_**I'm okay, now**_

_**(I'm okay, now)**_

They both turn in his direction to head back out the door, so he can see the smile that just graced her face fade to a frown. Softly, and a lot more serious, she says, "You know they're all just…"

"McDuke the Douche bag, I know." The friend finishes with an understanding look and a comforting pat to the shoulder.

This is when they both notice him; his mouth hanging open, because they both stop in shock. Meredith's eyes widen in what he can only guess is supreme embarrassment at what she has just said. But then something changes. Her eyes narrow and she pulls herself together, almost as if preparing for battle, and practically spits, "And just what are you looking at?"

He has no time to form a coherent thought, before the other woman staring daggers at him pushes Meredith out the door. But not before she can utter scornfully, "Why don't you just be not married somewhere else!"

What the hell was that about? He sits there in shock for a couple of seconds and then realizes that class is about to start in five minutes. He stuffs his notes back in his bag, throws it over his shoulder, and heads out the same door. Meredith is nowhere in site, but he knows where she's going to be in ten minutes: in his class. Fuck.

_**I'm not okay**_

_**I'm not okay**_

_**Well, I'm not okay**_

_**I'm not o-fucking-kay**_

_**I'm not okay**_

_**I'm not okay**_

_**(Okay)**_

* * *

Wait a minute. She's mad at him? How can that be? She was the one that didn't answer any one of his phone calls. He thinks to himself as he walks through one of the sets of double doors that lead into the auditorium. His eyes immediately find her, even though he can only see her from behind. Oh, so she's not avoiding him today. Last class she/they had sat in the furthest reaches of the auditorium, as close to the exit as possible. Today, she was somewhere in the middle. Granted, still in an end seat, so she could still bale pretty fast, but it was still an improvement.

He walks to the front of the room, the floor sloping down under his feet in a room that is a quarter circle with the podium at the narrowest end. Two double doors lead two paths that bisect the auditorium into three sections. Meredith and her friend are in the middle left and about a hundred other students are scattered around in a room that could easily fit twice that.

He puts his memory stick into the USB port under the podium and begins the process of pulling up his PowerPoint presentation. But all the while words ring in his ears: "Why don't you just be not married somewhere else" & "You know they're all just…McDuke the Douche bag, I know." Something was definitely not right here. Go be not married somewhere else? What is that supposed to mean? There is more going on here than meets the eye, and there's only one way he knows how to find out.

Meredith sits in her chair embarrassed beyond belief. Had he actually heard her say that? Judging by the shocked look on his face, she was pretty sure he had. Just what she needed. Not only did her professor know what she looked like naked, but now he knew that she thought about him when she was doing you know what with other guys. She watches him set up for the day and thinks, why did he have to look so good? Why couldn't things that professors normally wear, like tweed jackets and button down shirts, make him look dowdy or something? Shouldn't some sort of warning like "Will break your heart" be tattooed on his forehead? You know, like a warning to all unsuspecting women who fall victim to his twinkling eyes and easy charm.

She slinks down in her chair even more at that thought and watches as he rips out a piece of paper from his notebook, writes something on it, and tucks it into his hand. He presses the last few buttons to project his lesson for the day onto the big screen behind him, and with a tentative view at her, he walks up to the front of the class.

He takes a sweeping view of the stoic audience, and says, "Good morning. Now I know your syllabus says something about introduction to neuroscience, or something like that. The last professor who taught this class had a very nice lecture about definitions and the history of neuroscience and such, but I would like to try something a little different."

He leans back on to the table set up next to the podium, and sees a hand immediately shoot up. Meredith's friend.

"Yes." He says as he indicates her to ask her question.

"Will we be expected to know that stuff for the test then?" She asks dutifully.

Hmm, that's a good one. He really hadn't even thought that far ahead yet.

"I would say be familiar with the recommended readings. I'm going to try and stay as close as possible to the previous lectures, but I may veer off at times when I think it's appropriate." He says, trying to sound confident, like he knows exactly what he is saying. They all seem to be satisfied with that answer, so he continues, with, "I thought, seeing as how you all want to be doctors, I would sort of give you an introduction of what neuroscience will mean for you. Could someone please get the lights?

Meredith watches as a way too eager student jumps up from one of the front seats and throws a switch. The room dims to allow the presentation to be seen but there are still dim lights that allow for note taking. She takes out her notes that she has printed off before class and prepares to listen. Dr. Shepherd presses a button and a picture of a young blonde-haired girl fills the screen.

"This is Jane Doe. She was a 16 year old patient that was flown to Dartmouth Medical Center for an extreme case of grand mal seizures." He starts off. But as he is talking, she watches him walk up the aisle to her seat and drops a note on her desk. He gives her a little look of entreaty before he puts the note down, and then turns around to click for the next slide. He does it so stealthily, that she's pretty sure Christina is about the only person that notices. Everyone else is fixated on the screen.

She opens the note, and sees the words, "We need to talk" scrawled across the top. Now he wants to talk?! Now? After months of devastation? After four months of thinking he was off happily married to someone else? She'll give him an answer all right. He is still standing beside her, apparently waiting for an answer, so she leans down to give him her answer.

He looks down to make sure she is writing something, before he says, "Now, the first step in a case like this is to run scans and do a full work-up. Grand mal seizures are very dangerous, so the more information that you have about the patient, and the quicker you can figure out what is wrong, the better."

He clicks to the next slide, only to see her holding the note up to him with her head averted straight ahead. Her right elbow is placed squarely on the desk, with the note placed coolly between two fingers. Her straight spine tells him he is not going to like the answer. He quickly grabs the note, and continues to talk as he walks further up the aisle.

"The scans came back pure. Her labs were clean. Does anyone have any idea what her diagnosis was?" He asks to the class in general. While they're all trying to think of something, he opens the note to read, "About what?" He stifles a groan. What did he really expect?

The class is eerily quiet. He writes something down quickly and tosses it back on her desk as he flies back to the front of the room.

"Come on, take a guess." He offers with a friendly grin. "This is what you're going to be doing as doctors. You run scans, you take a family history, and then you take an educated guess."

A couple of hands go up. He points to the first one: a random frat boy looking guy on the far right.

"A tumor." He says.

"Good answer, but incorrect. The scans are pure, remember?" He responds good-naturedly, and then looks around for more hands.

Her friend is another one of the hands. Why not? He points to her and she answers, "Could the MRI not have picked it up?"

"You're on the right track." He tells the friend with an encouraging smile. He smiles even more when Meredith tentatively raises her hand. He nods to indicate she should ask her question, and she says, "Could she have fallen recently?" He's sure his eyes light up in approval, but he makes himself turn to look elsewhere when he realizes what he is doing.

"Yes, she had." Meredith hears Dr. Shepherd answer as she takes her first opportunity to read his response. She flips open the half-sheet and reads, "About why you didn't answer any of my phone calls." What phone calls? What is he talking about? She writes down the first thing that comes to mind and delicately waves it in front of her. She sees him see her maneuver and waits.

"It turns out that Jane here is a rhythmic gymnast. Earlier in the week, she had taken a minor fall in practice." He says as he makes another tour back to her side of the auditorium. "She twisted her ankle, but got back up and everything was fine. It was so minor her doctor didn't even think to put it on her chart." At this point, he reaches her desk and takes the paper from her without looking at her. It is her turn to stare up at him in puzzlement, as he says to the class, "But it turned out, upon a higher-level MRI, that she had sustained a subarachnoid hemorrhage. She was bleeding into her brain."

He waits for his words to sink in as he takes a discreet look at what she has written. He reads, "What phone calls?" Just what he thought. She could be lying, but somehow he doesn't think so. He remains silent as he walks back up to the front of the class.

"Everything is not always how it appears. This class is going to be about you learning the clinical signs and symptoms of neurological diseases. But the first lesson of any good doctor is to not assume anything." He says to the class, but suddenly the words strike a little too close to him. "The chances that a minor fall could burst an aneurysm are one in a million, but one in a million still happens."

His eyes come to rest on Meredith all on their own. His next line is meant for the entire class, but it ends up being especially for her. "So that's your first lesson as wanna-be doctors: don't assume anything." He says with finality, and class is over. They both seem to realize that they are staring at the same time, and both look away.

The class starts gathering up their books, and he walks back over to the podium to start powering everything down. Out of the corner of his eye he watches Meredith and her friend argue about something. The other woman finally gives in and huffs her way up to the double doors. Not without giving him an evil glare though. He closes his presentation, disconnects the USB port, and within a surprisingly short amount of time it is only him and Meredith in the auditorium.

As he's putting the last of his materials away in his bag, he sees her come to stand before him. He raises his eyes to see that hers are troubled, and knows he has made the right decision.

"We need to talk." He says softly, wanting to reach out to touch her but not knowing if it is the right thing to do.

She opens her mouth to say something, but seems to change her mind, before saying, "How about Murphy's at 8?"

She doesn't smile when she says it, only holds onto her satchel more tightly. "Murphy's at 8 it is then." He answers just as soberly, holding his hands to his own satchel just as tightly.

They both stare at each other, unsaid words filling the space around them. But then Meredith breaks the spell and turns around to leave. He watches her walk up the aisle, frozen in his position behind the podium. And with one last look behind her as she leaves the auditorium, she is gone.


	14. Chapter 14

**Am I allowed to say that I like this chapter? One, it gets to show Derek in all his splendid mcdreaminess. And two, it ties in a lot of things that you may have been wondering about. But wouldn't number one just be enough? sigh**

Derek sits at a corner table at Murphy's, berating himself for once again being duped by a slight girl with bewitching green eyes. It's long past the time at which she could be running late. He takes another look at his watch and decides that five more minutes is enough to say he waited. He leans back in his chair and takes a look around at the place Meredith has designated for their meeting. It was only Wednesday night, but you wouldn't know it by the crowd. Patrons fill most of the tables. Groups of people talk and laugh and enjoy the pleasure of each other's company while he spends his time alone waiting on the woman he is pretty sure he is not coming. He looks down to see that five minutes has gone by. He takes a last sip of his now luke-warm beer, places its empty contents on the table, and starts to rise.

"Dr. Shepherd. Is there a Dr. Shepherd here?" He hears called out from the direction of the bar.

He looks over to see the bartender holding up a phone, and calling out to the patrons.

"I'm Dr. Shepherd." He answers, the surprise evident in his voice that someone would be calling him at this locale.

The man swivels when he hears his response and simply says, "You have a phone call."

Derek hesitantly walks up to the bar and takes the receiver, and says, "Hello?"

"Derek." He hears Meredith say in relief on the other end.

"Meredith? Are you alright?" He instantly responds as he hears the stress and worry in her voice.

"Um…yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry about standing you up. I had every intention of being there. It's just that…well…I need to ask you a favor." She manages to get out between much hemming and hawing.

"Sure." He answers tentatively, not sure what he is getting into, but certain it must be something important by the sound of her voice.

"Can you come to Boston?"

* * *

Derek has been driving for more than two hours when he finally arrives at the address Meredith has given him. She wouldn't tell him what the matter was over the phone. Only that she would never ask him to do this if it wasn't important. There's still so much unsaid between them, but he couldn't turn down the worried and apprehensive tone of her voice. A part of him asks himself why he's driving all of this way for her, and the other half of him answers that because no matter what he tells himself he is still not over her.

He's in luck to find a tight parking spot just off of the stately brownstone a couple of blocks from Boston Commons. It doesn't take much for him to assess that this is definitely not something a medical school student could afford. And he suddenly realizes what this could be about. But why would Meredith need his help? Why had Meredith come all the way down here on a school day? He makes his way up front steps with all of these questions swirling around in his mind. Before he can even ring the doorbell though, the heavy wooden door opens and Meredith rushes out and closes the door behind her.

"Derek." She says with relief as she slumps against the door.

He has to step down a few stairs when she scoots her way between him and the door. That leaves him only a few spaces away from what he can see is a very flustered and desperate Meredith.

"Meredith, what's going on? Are you all right?" He asks fervently, getting worked up at just how out of sorts she seems.

"No. It's just that. Well, I know we aren't exactly on the best terms. I know we need to talk and stuff. It's just that…well, you said you had tried to call me…and I didn't know you weren't married…but now you're my professor…and I…" She rambles off as she twists her hands together in agitation.

He automatically takes her hands, just wanting to stop the twisting, and says, "It's alright. There are obviously things we need to talk about, but right now there seems to be something more important happening. Am I right?"

She stills when he grabs her hands, but the scared and haunted look never leaves her. "Yes, well, it's my mother. I think something is wrong with her. She…she…she doesn't even recognize me. I called her earlier today about some tuition matters, and she claimed that I couldn't be her daughter because her daughter was only five years old. She just sounded so strange, so I drove down here to see if she was okay. But she…but she…" She reveals and then starts to tear up.

"Shh…shh." He says as he tries to comfort her and pulls her into his chest.

"She won't go to the hospital. She thinks she's perfectly fine. I didn't know who else to call." She mumbles into his chest, relaxing into him. He suddenly remembers the last time he had held her in his arms, and the memory of it jars him into remembering the one and only time he had talked to the famous Ellis Grey. She had claimed her daughter was only five years old then too.

The pieces of the puzzle start to shift together in his mind, and he asks, "Has she exhibited any other odd behaviors? Asked the same question over and over again? Gone to do something only to forget what she was going to do?"

He can feel the wheels of her brain turning around in her head as she thinks about his questions. "Well, there was the one time in the summer where she claimed I was running up the phone bill. She grabbed my phone out of my hand to take it away. I ended up having to get a new phone when it smashed all over the floor. I just thought she was being irrational. We don't exactly have the best relationship." She tells him, looking up at him when she tells him the last sentence.

Oh my God. Her phone had gotten smashed into bits, and she had had to get a new phone. He feels like such an idiot. Why didn't he think of that? He had never gone back to ask if her number had changed. It didn't explain why she hadn't picked up in the first place, but he was starting to realize that there may be more to this story than just his stupid assumptions. He thinks about the nervous way she had approached his office, and he mentally kicks himself in the head. What an ass he'd been. That's not important right now though. What's important is to try and figure out what is wrong with her mother.

"Are you saying you want me to examine her?" He asks gently.

She nods her head in the affirmative as she stares up at him imploringly. "She doesn't think there's anything wrong with her though. She thinks I'm the maid or something."

Her tone is sarcastic, but he can see the hurt and the worry in her eyes. His heart contracts at her show of bravery, and he tries to sound calm when he says, "Well, we'll just have to think of something."

She smiles a little at his bravado, but the smile doesn't reach her eyes. "Thank you. Thank you for coming all this way." She says earnestly as she stares into his eyes.

He'll think of something. He has to. Suddenly it is very important that he think of something. Anything to take away the sadness he sees in her eyes.

* * *

Meredith sits in the waiting room of Boston General filled with worry and angst and guilt. Oh, she feels guilty. What was wrong with her mother? Was she going to be okay? Thank God Derek had agreed to come. He certainly didn't have to come. The last thing she had said to him having been to ask him to meet her somewhere that she had never shown up at. He had made it pretty clear in his office that day that she meant nothing to him. But then he had said they needed to talk. And he had said he had tried to call her. Had he really?

She sighs at the thought. He had tried to call her? All of those phone calls she had refused to answer because she was too tired to answer the phone. Get it right, Meredith. You were depressed. Too depressed to deal with that annoying thing called the outside world. Normally, she would pretend to be fine and just pretend that nothing bad had happened. But when she had gone home from that trip, nothing had been fine. She hadn't wanted to face her mother and her harsh judgments. She hadn't want to deal with Finn and her behavior toward him. He would have probably tried to be all supportive and sorry and bring over sandwiches that she couldn't even stomach the thought of eating. She hadn't even want to talk to her best friend. How could she possible explain what had happened in such a short time? How to explain that she had fallen in love with a man that had been getting married in a week?

Except he wasn't married. And he wanted to talk. And he had tried to call her. And he had come to Boston because she had asked him to. He was even now making sure her mother was getting the best care possible as discreetly as possible. She doesn't know how he had done it, but he had somehow gotten her mother to agree to go to the hospital. Apparently, he had some colleagues in Boston that were glad to test the famous Ellis Grey with the utmost of discretion. She was delegated to the waiting room, waiting on news, because her mother didn't even recognize her. She didn't even know what to think about that. Her own mother not recognizing her? How was that even possible? How could you not know your own flesh and blood that was standing before you? She just didn't know.

She sits wringing her hands and letting these thoughts pass through her mind, when Derek finally makes his way out of the area reserved for staff only. She sees him finish up a conversation with what must be a fellow doctor. The white lab coat and scrubs give it away. They exchange a few sentences, then they exchange a collegial handshake, and he is heading her way. He sees her watching him and gives her a reassuring smile. She waits for him to walk up to her chair, but before she can answer, he tells her, "They're still running tests. That was Dr. Johnson. They don't know anything yet. He said he's going to page me when they do."

She doesn't know what to say in response. She's so thankful that he's here to take care of things. She doesn't know why, but she starts to tear up again.

"It's going to be awhile. I'm pretty sure I saw a diner across the street. When's the last time you ate something?" He asks with a tenderness she's not sure she's heard from anyone in a long while.

"I think I had some left-over grilled cheese before class." She admits, the talk of mundane things like food taking her mind off of other things that she can't make herself think about. That's probably what he had in mind.

The corners of his eyes crinkle up in amusement, and a little bit of the old twinkle she remembers makes its way into his expression. "Left-over grilled cheese? That is sad. A good day starts with a good breakfast." He says with mock disapproval.

"I am a poor grad student. We live on pizza and grilled cheese sandwiches, you know." She attempts to tease back as she gathers up her things.

"Don't forget ramen noodles. I remember lots and lots of ramen noodle dinners in my med school heyday." He responds conversationally as they make their way out of the hospital.

"Wait a minute. Aren't you a Duke or something? Shouldn't you have been living off of caviar and pate?" She teases a little.

"Well, I kind of had this period of rebellion where I refused to have anything to do with the entire Duke thing." He reveals as they make their way down the block and sure enough to a little all hours diner.

"What brought you back to your senses?" She asks as he holds the door for her.

"I ate a lot of ramen noodles." He responds succinctly as they take their seats on opposite sides of a ratty little booth with hard seats and a view of the hospital they just left.

"No, seriously." She responds with a tiny laugh.

"Seriously. Have you ever tried to entirely consist on noodles that get most of their nutritional content from a seasoning packet?" He answers before a waitress comes up and offers them coffee.

They both accept a cup and smile at each other over sips of the hot brew. Somewhere between the emergency call about her mother and the walk over here, they seem to have fallen back into the easy camaraderie that they had shared overseas.

They both must realize it at the same time though, because they both try to speak at the same time.

"Why did you…", "Are you…", they say at once.

They both laugh at the incident, and then Derek says, "Ladies first."

Crap. She really didn't want to go first. Well, here goes nothing. She pulls in her breath for strength. "Are you…are you really…not married?" She asks in a rush, holding in her breath as she waits for his answer.

"No." He answers simply as he stares back at her assessingly.

"It's just that…I just assumed that you were…and then I saw the ring on your finger…and you were supposed to be, you know, the next day…" She manages to get out as she starts taking in giant gulps of air.

He must see her starting to freak out, because he takes her hand and pulls it to the middle of the table. He has a very perplexed look on his face when he asks, "You didn't know?"

She calms down with the reassurance of his hand covering hers, but she also feels a giant blush suffuse her features. "Well, um…hmm…how do I say this without making myself sound as pathetic as I'm going to sound?" She stalls as he watches her with an even more confused look. "I…um…didn't exactly watch a lot of tv when I came back. I…uh…didn't want to subject myself to endless news reels announcing your wedded bliss." She says while looking anywhere else but at him.

After she finishes, she can't help but turning to look at his face. It's really not what she expected. Instead of maybe the pitying look that she expected, his face looks almost what she would call dreamy. He puts his other hand over the hand that he is already holding, and says, "I am so sorry, Meredith."

Sorry? "Sorry?" She asks, it being her turn to being confused.

"I….uh…I actually came here to Boston. I hired someone to find out your address. I met someone named Roger. And I…well I assumed a lot of things." He rambles as a slow redness makes its way up his neck and into his face. He even disconnects his hands from hers and rubs one hand through his hair in a nervous gesture.

"Roger? What are you…?" She says before a hazy memory of a boy mixed in with copious amounts of tequila makes itself known to her, and she is flooded with embarrassment.

They both kind of sit there in stupefied embarrassment, when suddenly a laugh escapes from Derek's lips. And as she watches, little bubbles of laughter make their way through his body, until he is laughing so hard he has to cover his mouth to stop the sound from erupting from his mouth.

"What is so funny?" She asks in part indignation and part amusement.

This just makes him laugh even harder though. "I don't know why I'm laughing. I think it's just the relief or something. I thought you didn't care about me. I thought…I don't know what I thought." He says as he tries to calm himself.

Meredith sits back in her booth in shock. He had come after her? He thought she didn't care about him? And then a new though enters her mind.

"You didn't? You didn't not get married because of me?" She finishes with a small voice, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"Meredith." Is his only answer as he tilts his head to the side and his eyes tell her everything she needs to know.

Oh no. Oh, no no no no.

He did not. He so did not.

Her lungs harden in her chest and suddenly it is too hard to breathe. She gulps in giant gobfulls of air, but the air still won't reach her lungs.

"I, uh…I uh need to….um…" She tries to explain as everything in her tells her that she needs to get out of there right now. She fumbles around trying to grab her bag, but somehow it takes her a couple of tries to grab the handle. She doesn't even look at him as she dashes outside.

"He did not just say that. Well, he didn't say it. He implied it. Same thing." She mumbles to herself as she purposefully strides down the block.

"Meredith!" She hears him yell out to her from somewhere behind her.

She ignores him and keeps moving forward. She doesn't even know where she is going. It doesn't matter. She's just walking. Away.

"Meredith." He says again forcefully as he grabs her hand and makes her turn around.

How did he get to her so fast? He must see the panic in her eyes, because he grabs her other wrist too and holds them together in his hands. She still won't look at him.

"Just let me go." She says, trying to tug her hands away from his.

"No. I'm not letting you go. I lost you once. I'm not going to lose you again."

That gets her attention. She stops struggling and stares up into his face. He's completely sincere. His eyes shine with the sincerity of his statement. Her eyes start to tear up.

"Derek, you never had me." She says as the many bitter-sweet moments of their time together zip through her consciousness. Especially the last day. The happiest and best day of all, but for the ever-lurking presence of his fiancé pushed up between them.

She's hurt him. She can see it in the way his face falls and he takes his hands back. Her hands are free, but she has no desire to turn away.

She watches as a panacea of emotions flicker across his face: hurt, anger, acceptance, and then he is the one turning away. This time she is the one to grab his hand. With both hands.

"That's not what I meant. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that." She apologizes.

"No, you're right. I didn't have you. But what we shared was special and you know it." He states definitively, as if he is challenging her to deny it. To deny the bond that she can even now feel pulling them together, even without the superficial joining of hands.

"I know." She answers honestly, not able to say anything else in the face of those steady orbs.

An intercept able line of rigidity drops from his shoulders. He must have been waiting for her answer. He honestly hadn't known what she was going to say. That tell-tale sign prompts her to make her next statement.

"We barely knew each other, Derek. We barely know each other now! How can you…how could you…" She tries to ask, but the words won't come out. She can feel herself starting to tighten up again, her chest suddenly feeling much more restrictive.

"It wasn't just you. I shouldn't have implied that. I'm sorry." He says as he pulls her closer to him and gently takes a hand and brushes it through her hair. The soothing motion of his hand calms the furious beating of her heart, but all of these questions still run through her mind.

Speaking to her, but kind of staring off into the distance, he says, "I don't even know how to explain it, Meredith. It wasn't like you broke up my wedding. It's like I never should have been getting married in the first place. It wasn't until I had you in my life that I realized something was missing."

As he's been talking, she has slowly been moving in closer to him. So that when he says his last sentence, her head is resting gently against his chest. They stand conversing in the middle of a sidewalk in Boston, but all there is is each other. His next words kind of sink in, but it is like she is trying to grab them through a fog.

"But what about the picture?" She asks dazedly, her cheek pressed solidly against his chest.

The hand on her hair stops. "You saw that?"

"It was kind of hard to miss." She answers sarcastically, and raises her head to look into his face.

She shows him a look that expresses a jaded amusement, but suddenly finds herself being kissed. Kissed hard. She feels a tentativeness as his lips first make contact with hers, but then his arms had swoop up to cradle her head, and she finds her lips pushed aside to accept his tongue. Oh, it feels good. She remembers things that felt this good. The blending and the frisson that was her tongue meeting his. The soft crackliness of his scruff underneath her hands. The feeling of rightness. The feeling of somehow having come home.

Suddenly, it doesn't feel right though. She pulls apart and says, "Derek, we can't do this."

"Yes we can." Derek hardly responds as he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her even closer to him. The areas where they touch tingles, but she has to remain firm.

"Derek, you're my professor." She iterates breathily as he spreads little kisses along the side of her neck.

"So." He breathes out between kisses, and his hands start to slide down to curvier areas of her anatomy.

Her eyes start to close with pleasure, but she has to try one last time. "Derek, you could get fired."

The hands stop. She is glad the hands stop, but she is not glad they stop. Her body is very willing to have things continue as they are, but her traitorous mind keeps reminding her of those tiny pesky things like ethics and accountability.

Derek slowly straightens up, so slow as to mimic an old man pressuring his muscles to make movement's anathema to his body. When he does move far enough away from her, she is surprised to find that he has seemed to have found his sense of humor somewhere along the way.

"You did this on purpose, didn't you?" He asks in wry amusement.

"What? Purposefully signed up for a class from a man I created an international incident with, just so he could help me out with my mother and then ravage me on a public street at 2 o'clock in the morning?"

" Nope. Save me from a bad marriage, only to have to imagine making love to you every Monday and Wednesday until the semester is over. Or I go insane. Whichever comes first."


	15. Chapter 15

**So do you think they got back together too fast? Should I have held out? I was seriously going to, but Meredith and Derek wouldn't let me. They have had such a strong connection from the very beginning, that I felt that if they ever did get in the same space again that it wouldn't take very long. Meredith would discover that he wasn't married, he would discover that she really had been heart broken, and that would have been that. I guess I did kind of cheat with the crisis of Ellis, but if you remember your Grey's history, it is Ellis's illness that stops Meredith from going to Europe. I just played around with it a little. I think this chapter is one giant ball of fluff with some underlying issues that I thought needed to be addressed. Thanks for reading!**

IntlFloozy LOGIN SAT 12:33 AM

SexyProf LOGIN SAT 12:34 AM

IntlFloozy: Hey

SexyProf: Hey yourself

IntlFloozy: I like your screen name

SexyProf: I thought you would ;-)

IntlFloozy: You working?

SexyProf: Yep. Why?

IntlFloozy: Would you be charitable enough to help a girl out with her anatomy homework, would you?

SexyProf: Seriously?

IntlFloozy: Seriously. I'm way behind with the whole mommy thing

SexyProf: You're going to owe me.

IntlFloozy: That depends on how much you're able to help me :-p

SexyProf: Mommy's okay?

IntlFloozy: Yep, Back to her gloriously bitchy self sigh

SexyProf: You there now?

IntlFloozy: Unfortunately.

SexyProf: Sux

IntlFloozy: Yep. Just until the live-in can start.

SexyProf: When's that?

IntlFloozy: Monday

SexyProf: You going to be late for class?

IntlFloozy: Of course not, Dr. Shepherd

SexyProf: Ooh, call me that again.

IntlFloozy[ignores last statement So you going to help me or what?

SexyProf: Depends

IntlFloozy: Depends on what?

SexyProf: Depends on what you're wearing

IntlFloozy: What?!

SexyProf: C'mon. And anyways, you're the one that brought up anatomy.

IntlFloozy: You are a dirty dirty old man.

SexyProf: I can deal with that characterization.

IntlFloozy: Ummmmmmm…….ok.

SexyProf: Seriously?

IntlFloozy: You're the one that asked!

SexyProf: Yeah, but I didn't think you'd say okay.

IntlFloozy: exasperated Then why'd you ask?

SexyProf: I am a guy.

IntlFloozy: I guess that explains everything then rolls eyes

SexyProf: Pretty much. Kisses forehead for looking cute when rolls eyes

IntlFloozy: You seriously did not just e-kiss me?

SexyProf: Well, I can't kiss you in the real world

IntlFloozy: Yes, you can

SexyProf?!

IntlFloozy: In December

SexyProf: ha ha, very funny

IntlFloozy: You asked for it.

SexyProf: I guess I did. So what do you need help with?

IntlFloozy: Nothing. I just wanted to talk to you.

SexyProf: Awe, how cute.

SexyProf: So will you still tell me what you're wearing?

IntlFloozy: Nothing.

SexyProf: D&(983

IntlFloozy?

SexyProf: Sorry. I dropped my palm pilot

IntlFloozy: snickers

SexyProf: So are you really wearing nothing?

IntlFloozy: No!

SexyProf: So what are you wearing then?

IntlFloozy: You don't give up, do you?

SexyProf: Nope.

IntlFloozy: A black lacy corset buttoned up the front with tiny rosettes and…

SexyProf: Meredith?

IntlFloozy?

SexyProf: I don't believe you.

IntlFloozy: (in feigned shock) You don't?

IntlFloozy: Fine. Hello Kitty Underwear and a white t-shirt.

SexyProf: Sexy

IntlFloozy: Really?

SexyProf: Really.

IntlFloozy: Good to know. So what have you got on under the scrubs?

SexyProf: (silence)

IntlFloozy: Derek?

SexyProf: (silence)

IntlFloozy: Figures. I tell you mine and then you…

SexyProf: Sorry, I got paged.

IntlFloozy: Gotta go?

SexyProf: Yep.

SexyProf: Oh, and nothing.

IntlFloozy: Nothing?

SexyProf: Think about it ;-) See you on Monday!

SexyProf LOGSOFF 1:12 AM

IntlFloozy: See ya!

IntlFloozy: Great. Talking to myself.

IntlFloozy: sigh

IntlFloozy LOGSOFF 1:14 AM

* * *

**Monday**

"Hey, Meredith, wait!" Derek calls out to her as he dives through the auditorium doors in time to catch her after class.

She's with her friend, the one he now knows is Christina, and hisses, "You're not supposed to be talking to me."

"What? I'm just a professor talking to two of his students." He responds boyishly, grinning even larger when both women just scowl back at him and Meredith raises an eyebrow. For some reason, that just makes him want to smile even larger. He schools his features though, to ask, "Actually, I wanted to ask you something about your mother. Can I walk you to your next class?"

"Do you want to hold her books for her too? See you at home, Meredith." Christina says as she bolts down the stairs and down the sidewalk.

Meredith calls out to her back, "You're a real help!"

Christina only waves a hand back at her as she walks off into the distance.

"What was that about?" He asks, amused.

"She was supposed to keep me from being alone with you." Meredith huffs as she turns around and starts walking in a different direction than her friend just took.

"You can't be alone with me?" He asks with a satisfied grin that only males confident in the potent allure can give.

Meredith glares at him and says, "You are so full of yourself. I was just keeping the proprieties."

"Proprieties, smieties. You can't keep your hands off of me." He teases as they walk down a wide expanse of sidewalk that cuts across a sprawling green smack dab in the middle of campus.

"Don't you have somewhere to be? Big, important neurosurgeon like yourself?"

"Nope. They give me Monday and Wednesday afternoons for class stuff." He answers, flashing her a grin that says there is nowhere else he needs to be but here.

"Fine, but keep your hands to yourself." She warns him as she looks at him wearily, and then turns to face forward.

He retaliates by grabbing a little piece of her hair and tugging on it. She immediately does what he wants by looking at him, but he puts his hands into his jacket pockets and feigns innocence.

"Didn't you say you wanted to ask me about something?" She asks with a suspicious glare.

"Oh yeah." He answers as he's reminded of his original purpose for asking to walk with her. "I just wanted to know what you were going to do about your mom."

She just kind of sighs and says, "I don't know. It's not really up to me."

"How's your mom taking it?" He asks gently, not meaning to stir things up but knowing that she needs to talk about it.

"How would you react if you found out you had early onset Alzheimer's?" She poses with a downtrodden look.

"That good?" He asks in sympathy for what her mother must be going through. What she must be going through.

She kind of stares off into the distance before she answers, "She's taken a leave of absence from the hospital, but she hasn't told anyone what is going on, except for her boss that is. I don't think she's left her room in days."

"I'm so sorry, Meredith." He says as he takes her hand.

She stops on the sidewalk and looks at his hand. "You're not supposed to be touching me." She remarks as they stare at each other.

"A friend can take a friend's hand in sympathy." He tells her honestly.

Her face suddenly breaks out in a smile. "You are not my friend." She tells him rakishly and then pulls her hand out of his and keeps walking.

He follows her, but argues, "I am too."

"You are not. You're my professor." She reminds him. Not that he needed any reminding. He just about felt hoisted by his own petard trying to teach class today with her delectable self only a couple of rows away from him. Just how far away was December again?

"I could be your professor friend." He cajoles, trying to push the limits as far as she is willing to let him.

"Yes, and we all know how well the friends thing worked out last time." She reminds him yet again. But instead of dampening his enthusiasm, it just conjures up images of a cool Roman night complete with copious amounts of tequila, ripping clothes, and endless pleasure.

He licks his lips in remembrance and catches her watching. It's good to know that he's not the only one affected. He stops her by grabbing onto her shoulder and makes her look at him, when he says, "You know, no one would have to know."

He watches the idea rumble around in her mind as they stand at the far end of the diag, a couple of hundred feet in front of the building she seems to be heading for.

"Christina won't be home for a couple of hours." She responds, the heat in her gaze mirroring what he knows must be reflected in his own.

"Then we better hurry."

* * *

Oh, that feels good. Why is it that only his lips are the ones that make her sing? Is there some special property of the universe that makes their joining special? Was it all just pheromones and chemicals? She didn't know, but she didn't care with him kissing her in her doorway with her back up against the door. Luckily, she only lived a few blocks from campus; a dumpy little house that her and Christina shared. What one would call a member of the 'student ghetto': affordable houses within walking distance of campus, but only because the landlords made them only livable enough for poor college students.

"I have to get my keys out." She remarks breathily as she pulls herself reluctantly away from his kisses.

"Keys are good." He agrees, but immediately goes back to kissing her.

She giggles into his mouth, and he finally pulls back to let her actually let them into the house. She's momentarily dazzled by the happy smile on his face though and doesn't immediately turn to open the door.

"Door?" He prompts with an amused grin.

"Oh, right." She realizes with a start and turns to fish out her keys. She gets out of her purse and puts them in the lock, only to feel his arms wrap around her from behind and his lips start to suckle her ear.

She melts back into him for a second as he wraps his arms even further around her body. The warmth of his breath on her ear sending pools of pleasure throughout the rest of her body while his warm hard body molds itself to her backside.

"You're not helping." She says when he doesn't make a move to stop the sweet torture.

"Yes I am." He breathes into her ear, and then laughs. He lets her go, but the places he was touching still tingling in his absence.

She pushes the door open to a tiny hallway that opens onto the rest of the house. On their left is the living room and on their right the stairs to the bedrooms. Straight ahead is the tiny kitchen only large to meander around a small round table. It's a quintessential New England home with rooms tiny by modern standards but cozy with a sign of character. The floors are wood and the stairwell has tiny knobs and adornments. They even have a huge fireplace in the living room. But the walls are white and the only decoration is their dumpy college furniture. They just moved in a couple of weeks ago, so boxes from their old apartment in Boston litter the ground. She tosses her bag on the only clear surface, their couch, and turns to address Derek.

He takes an amused look around at the mess and comments, "Nice place."

"Well, we just moved in." She answers awkwardly, as they stand somewhere in the doorway of the living room. They both have smiles on their faces but neither seems to know how to continue.

Meredith decides to walk forward and holds out her hand for his briefcase. "You can take off your jacket, you know." She says with a little smile, suddenly shy at what they're about to do. He hands her his briefcase, and as she tosses it next to her bag, he takes off the light black parka he is wearing over his dress shirt. He hands that over to her too and she tosses it over their bags, only to turn back to stare awkwardly at him again.

"Meredith, we don't have to do this if you don't want to." He says as he brings his hand up to caress the hair above her ear.

She relishes the feel of his fingers winding through her hair before she answers, "It's just that…well, before we were in a foreign country. And it was over there…away from here…you know what I mean?"

"I'm still me, Meredith." He says softly, as she looks up at him with some trepidation.

"But who is you?" She asks simply, not sure if she even knows what she is asking.

But he seems to know. "You've always known the answer to that. I was more me when I was with you than I've ever been around anyone else."

She can only smile at that. What else are you supposed to do when someone tells you something like that? She simply takes his hand and leads him up the stairs, looking over her shoulder periodically to smile back at him.

She's unpacked her room more than the downstairs, but there's still a few select boxes placed around. Her full bed takes up most of the room with two side tables and lamps set up on either side. A large window takes up most of the space on the far wall, with the closet door and her dresser making up the remaining wall.

She leads him into the room and turns around to place a kiss on his lips. The kiss is cooler than the ones downstairs, but she can still feel the lingering heat. For months they have both been rolling around on a sea of emotions and misunderstandings. Now the storm has passed, the seas have calmed, and they find themselves sitting in the life-boat a great wide-open future before them. There are no fiancés or boyfriends waiting in the wings. There are no weddings on the horizon. For the first time, it was just them. And they didn't know what to do with each other.

She pulls back from him and they simply stare at each other. Her hand comes up to run across his jaw. She watches her hand relearn the contours of his chin and revels in the remembered scratchiness. Had she ever done this before? Taken the time to just explore his face? Everything had been so rushed before. They had just grabbed on, trying to take as much from the other before time ran out.

There is no clock in this room. Time seems to have actually slowed down. Sun shines in the dull window and dust mites swirl in the beckoning light.

She brings her other hand up to his face and pulls him in for a kiss. It's so quiet in the room that she can almost hear the beating of her own heart. Their mouths softly touch the plushness of their lips barely meeting enough to indent the other and then she pulls away. She takes an assessing look at him and then presses her lips back more firmly and deeper. This time he takes up her lead and plunges his tongue into her mouth. His arms come around to wrap themselves, and she stretches to feel him against her. The initial shyness giving way to remembered comfort. Her body telling her that it remembers what it feels like to be in this man's arms.

He must feel something in her give, because he pushes her back so that her legs rest against the side of her bed. Without breaking the kiss, she lets herself fall back onto the bed and he swiftly follows. She feels the hardness of his body lying against hers, and she is transported back to that first night they had shared together. It was another bed in another country, but really this was like the first time all over again. Where as then it had been hazy and hectic, fueled by the antics of tequila, this time they are completely sober. In more ways than one.

Unexpectedly, she feels a tear fall from the corner of her eye. She doesn't feel sad. It's more like a tear of joy. A tear of remembered sadness.

Derek must feel the salty wetness, because he raises his lips from her and asks tenderly, "Are you crying?"

"No, I've just got something in my eye." She lies.

He doesn't seem to believe her though, because he stands up, kicks off his shoes, and pulls her onto his side as he lays the proper way on the bed. He pulls her into his nook and places his arm around her and says, "You know, I was going to ask you to stay with me that night."

Surprised, she looks up at him. "You were?"

"I kept trying to tell you, but things kept getting in the way. First, that photographer came by to take our picture. Then the dancing started. And then we took that walk, remember?" He asks as he pats the top of her hair.

She runs her hands softly over his chest, as she responds, "Of course I remember. You ate all the chocolate sauce."

"Yes, I ate all the chocolate sauce." He says with a large smile, but then continues with, "I kept trying to wait for the perfect moment. But when I finally did, you fell asleep. My bellezza di sonno. But I just thought I would tell you in the morning."

Her eyes get large. "And then I…?" She stutters, realizing what he is telling her.

"Sh, sh, it's not your fault. It's my fault. I shouldn't have waited. How could you have known? For all you knew, I could have just been using you. I realize now what it took for you to even go with me. It was just so hard to tell you, because I didn't know what you would say. I was just…" He explains, but isn't quite able to finish the sentence.

She can do it for him though. "Afraid?" She answers, the word filling the air between them.

For if she could admit it, that's how she feels right now. It was so easy to let go when it was just a week. She could do whatever she wanted because she was never going to see him again. There would be no repercussions. Why be afraid of the future if there was no future? But right now, they both know that they could have a future if they wanted to. This wasn't just a fling. This was the real thing. This could be weekend barbeques and family dinners. This could be children and marriage and all those other grown-up things. This could be love.

And suddenly she is not afraid. That one little word gives her the courage to ask, "What were you going to tell me?"

He looks at her for minute, and she can see the wheels turning around in his mind. Is it too soon? Is now the right time? But finally, the wheels stop, and he says simply, "I was going to tell you that I loved you."

That really wasn't what she had expected to hear. Maybe that he was going to ask her to stay. That he found her company stimulating and wanted to see where it would go. Nothing so big as I love you.

"I loved you too. I mean, I loved you then too." She rambles a little.

The words kind of hover in the air around them, floating around them in happy contentment. His face looks a little shocked.

"Then…then why did you leave?" He asks in clear confusion.

Isn't it obvious? "I wanted you to be happy." She explains as her damn tear ducts seem to fill up again.

His seem to follow suit though, because he has a little trouble saying, "I am happy. Right now is the happiest I can remember being a long time. The last time I remember being this happy is the moment you fell asleep in my arms on a starry Roman night."

There is nothing she can say to that. Her tear ducts seem to be overflowing, but no tears fall. "Well, how about we fall asleep right here. I promise to be here when you wake up." She proposes.

"You promise?" He asks as his tears do overflow and one lonely member makes its way down the side of his face.

She reaches up and wipes away the tear and says simply, "I promise."


	16. Chapter 16

**For those of you were disappointed at them falling asleep, this chapter is for you ;-p I thought it was a nice parallel to them falling asleep on the lounge chair in Sperlonga though. But this time they are content in their knowledge that the other will be there when they wake up. I'm a sap, I know. But anyway, this chapter also introduces a new character in the second half. Did you think I was going to ignore the fact that Derek is still her teacher, whether they want to ignore that fact or not? No siree. And we might also want to remember the Derek is an international figure and there was that whole wedding scandal thing. Enjoy!**_  
_

_Recommended Soundtrack: 'Dusk and Summer' by Dashboard Confessional_

_**she smiled in a big way, the way a girl like that smiles**_

_**when the world is hers and she held your eyes**_

_**out in the breezeway down by the shore in the lazy summer**_

_**and she pulled you in, and she bit your lip, and she made you hers**_

_**she looked deep into you as you lay together quiet in the grasp of dusk and summer**_

Derek awakens from a deep slumber with a feeling of deep comfort and relaxation. He can't remember the last time his sleep wasn't disturbed by some form of restlessness. Sure, he had been flying around Europe for months and recently was trying to tackle a doctor's hours again. But it was deeper than that. If he had to pinpoint the exact time it had begun, he would probably say it had been that morning he had been told his father had died. A calm morning of seeing patient's in his clinic that had hardly been disturbed by his sister's phone call. He remembers sitting in his office, waiting for the next patient to arrive. The flash of Kathleen's number on the screen.

_Hey sis, what's up?" _

"_Der, (long pause) Dad's dead."_

Three little words. Three little words that had changed his life forever. His dad was gone. A man larger than life, a man that had taken life by the horns and willed it to his liking, was dead. A man whom he admired, reviled, loved, hated, stood in awe of, and tried to be as unlike of as possible, was dead. There wouldn't be anymore father/son lunches where two men as unlike as chalk and cheese could bond over a scotch or two. His father had long ago stopped expecting him to walk in his footsteps, and Derek had come to accept his father in all his eccentricities.

That is until those three little words had been spoken. Your father is dead. But not just any father. The Duke of Savoy. And with those three little words, he was the Duke of Savoy. The title passed down from father to son in the age old tradition of the Savoy family. The mantel sinking down onto his shoulders like an invisible armor. There was no throwing off the shackles of the responsibility that he had been trying to ignore his entire life. People depended on him. Not only his family, but the legions of people employed under the Savoy name.

The restlessness had begun even before the funeral. He was the head of the household. He was the head of the Savoy business interests. Everyone looked to him to make the final funeral arrangements. Everyone looked to him to carry on the Savoy name and make them proud. The armor made him restless, tossing and turning with the weight of his new role. The armor made him offer for his lady fair to continue on the Savoy name. The armor grew on him and sent him off to foreign lands in its name. When he looked in the mirror, only his eyes shined through the hard metal helmet to give any indication that a mild-mannered neurosurgeon lived within.

And funny enough it had been his chivalry and the need to rescue a damsel in distress that had brought him his freedom. He looks down at his own version of a sleeping beauty curled up on his chest and sighs with contentment. He had always thought of the armor as this heavy thing that he had to carry around and show to the world. But she had shown him that it took the man within and the protective coating to be the Duke. Otherwise, it was only an empty shell.

_**and she combed your hair, and she kissed your teeth**_

_**and she made you better than you'd been before**_

_**she told you bad things you wished you could change in the lazy summer**_

_**and she told you, laughing down to her core, so she would not cry as she lay in your lap**_

_**she said "nobody here can live forever, quiet in the grasp of dusk and summer"**_

But right now, he felt free and unencumbered. The suit lay discarded on the floor alongside his shoes. The only weight he felt was the sweet up and down movement of his savior. His savior that snores. He chuckles a little and the tiny vibration jostles her awake. Sleepily, she raises her head to look at him.

"What's so funny?" She asks with a yawn.

"Nothing. You're just cute when you sleep." He tells her with a tiny kiss to her forehead.

"I was snoring again, wasn't I?" She asks a little sheepishly.

"Maybe." He singsongs.

She giggles a little bit, unabashed, and stretches to get the sleep out. But then thinks better of it and snuggles right back into his nook. "Did you get any sleep?" She asks as she swirls little patterns on his shirtfront with her index finger.

He watches her finger move around on him lazily and feels little zings of pleasure as her finger pass over one clothed nipple and up and around the other one. His limbs are like liquid in their post-sleep state, so he just responds, "Enough."

She looks up at him when he talks, and says unexpectedly, "You've got your twinkle back."

"My twinkle?"

"When you're happy, your eyes twinkle." She informs him, then takes her hand up to his face and says, "And you get tiny crinkle lines next to your eyes" as she runs her hand over the exact place she's talking about.

He krinkles? He laughs with the joy of laughing about something so mundane, and turns his body to face more into hers. "Well, when you're happy, you giggle like a school girl." He informs her.

She gets kind of an affronted look on her face, and says, "I do not!"

He can't help but scoot down, so that they are face to face, and tries to kiss the affront away. She responds right away, kissing him back in the timeless way they have. She knows what he is doing though, and does the very thing she purports to not do: giggle. It makes him laugh. They laugh and giggle as they kiss.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Recommended Soundtrack: 'The Blower's Daughter' by Damien Rice_

_**And so it is**_

_**Just like you said it would be**_

_**Life goes easy on me**_

_**Most of the time**_

_**And so it is**_

_**The shorter story**_

_**No love, no glory**_

_**No hero in her sky**_

Meredith relishes the feel of Derek's body pressed up against hers and the sensuous way his lips pass across hers. She passes her hands through the thickness of his hair, enjoying to cool silkiness as it passes through her fingertips. She opens her eyes, only to find him twinkling back at her.

"Ah, la mia bellezza di sonno." Derek whispers as he passes butterfly kisses along her forehead and eyelids. It seems so surreal that she's even in his arms. How many nights had he dreamed that they were together dancing under the stars of Sperlonga, only to awaken to an empty bed?

"I didn't think sleeping beauty snored." She rejoinders from under her closed eyelids.

He laughs and then asks, "You looked it up?" She would, wouldn't she?

"Of course I looked it up. If a man is repeatedly calling me something in a foreign language, I am going to find out what it is." She says with a laugh, all the while rubbing her hand across his chest in flat-palmed caresses.

"Oh, so you found me out, did you?" He says as he rolls onto his back, taking her with him. He wants to be found out alright. He wants to be naked and covered with her for all of eternity.

_**I can't take my eyes off of you**_

_**I can't take my eyes off you**_

_**I can't take my eyes off of you**_

_**I can't take my eyes off you**_

_**I can't take my eyes off you**_

_**I can't take my eyes...**_

She climbs on top of him, settling onto his length in all the nooks and crannies that seem especially made for her. She pushes back the hair on his forehead, and says with a trace of huskiness, "I kind of like it. Say something else."

"Like what?" He asks breathily as his hands wander up to keep her hair out the way of their lips.

"Something sexy." She says between kisses, scooting forward to deepen her kiss.

"But I am sexy." He says as he rolls her over onto her back and swoops in for a sea of kisses.

He pushes himself against her clothed body and feels the answering motion of hers. Just how acceptable was the wait before ripping off all of her clothes?

_**And so it is**_

_**Just like you said it should be**_

_**We'll both forget the breeze**_

_**Most of the time**_

_**And so it is**_

_**The colder water**_

_**The blower's daughter**_

_**The pupil in denial**_

"How do you say, please take off your shirt, in Italian?" The man just has too many clothes on. Not that he doesn't look good with clothes on, because he does. But right now, clothes bad.

"Tolga prego la vostra camicia." He says in his most sultry Italian voice, all the while sitting half-way up to start releasing himself from his shirt buttons.

After he gets, a few of them undone, it is revealed that he has an undershirt on underneath. "You just have way too many clothes on." She comments. I'm going to have to buy him some single-layer parkas. None of this undershirt, shirt, over-shirt crap.

He unbuttons the last few and throws the shirt off on to the floor, and says, "Well, so do you," as he comes back down to push her shirt up over her head and toss it in the same direction as his shirt.

God, she's beautiful. Bras were definitely invented by a man. Because only a man would think to push them up and out like an offering incased in fabric. Her green eyes shine up at him like dusky emeralds.

"Mi perdo nelle profondità dei vostri occhi." He whispers as if in prayer (I lose myself in the depths of your eyes)

"What did you just say?" She asks, noting the warm smile and almost glow to his face as he says it.

"I'm not telling." He teases as he leans forward to draw down the straps of her bra.

_**I can't take my eyes off of you**_

_**I can't take my eyes off you**_

_**I can't take my eyes off of you**_

_**I can't take my eyes off you**_

_**I can't take my eyes off you**_

_**I can't take my eyes...**_

Oh, those hands. No one else in the world can do what he can with those hands. "That's not …" She begins to say 'fair' but her breath is drawn away when he takes one of her nipples in his mouth. Holy sweet Jesus.

He swells with pride as he hears her small gasp. He could always make her gasp. He lathers attention on the breast, enjoying the little panting noises she makes with every pass he makes over her nipple. It's definitely sweet torture though, because with every motion he feels himself growing harder and harder.

"Derek." She calls out, trying to grab his attention. He breaks his contact to look up at her, when she shocks him to his toes by saying, "Derek, I need to inside of me right now."

Did she just say that? Yes, yes she did. Sometimes a girl has got to do what she's got to do. It's been how long? She has had to look at him all morning flitting around class in those pants that accentuate his lithe long movements. And whoever said preppy was out, had never seen a dress shirt and pull-over on one Derek Shepherd.

That's about all the urging he needs. He can tell by the healthy glow of her eyes that she means exactly what she says. The undershirt goes in one fell motion, and he laughingly kisses her as she helps him with the button of his pants. He has to break the kiss to take them off, and to take hers off too, but within record time they are both naked. They both laugh at their eagerness, but they don't care. There is some tousling as Meredith must find a condom in her nightstand, but it is good-natured tousling as she finally finds one and slips it on him.

_**I can't take my mind off of you**_

_**I can't take my mind off you**_

_**I can't take my mind off of you**_

_**I can't take my mind off you**_

_**I can't take my mind off you**_

_**I can't take my mind...**_

_**My mind...my mind...**_

He slides into her with a feeling of coming home, and can't help uttering, "Oh god, Meredith."

Meredith has the same sentiment, his words saying what both of them feel in that moment. She knew she hadn't forgotten how good this felt. She knew she hadn't made this up. He moves within her and all rational thought flies out of her head.

"Oh Derek." She cries out as her body arches to meet his.

"Meredith." He answers within a hairs breath of taking her lips.

It feels too good though. He's going to come. It's been so long, and she's so beautiful. He can feel himself ready to burst, but he wants to hold on to make it good for her. She doesn't let him though. She pushes him on, throwing her legs around him, and pulling him further into her supple goodness.

She can feel him shaking and knows he's holding himself in check for her. There's no reason to wait though. He could have touched her, and she probably would have burst into flames. She grabs on tight and lets him fill her one more exquisite time before the stars in her head begin to explode and she loses touch with the world around her.

He feels her shake and tremble around him and knows she's reached her peak. He pushes in one more time, letting himself melt into all that is Meredith. He grabs hold of her with his arms, joining skin to skin with his final release. Both sticky, both hot, breathing heavy and shallow. Both satiated and happy and together. Exactly as they should be.

* * *

Alex Karev is good at his job. Sometimes he liked to think that he was the best reporter in the entire city. New York City, thank you very much. If you got a couple of drinks in him, he might say in the entire world. He doesn't like to brag or anything, but those stuffy periodicals like the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal just didn't appreciate his particular talents. He didn't deal in trying to predict the financial markets or the latest political gaff. That stuff was depressing. He dealt with people. He dealt with scandal. He dealt with the exposition of celebrities dirty little secrets into the wider world. He lived for the days that his name appeared under the scoop of the week.

Take his current assignment: find out why some crazy Duke was hanging out in the wilds of New Hampshire, teaching first year medical students. He personally thought the dude was cracked. But he could smell a story a mile away. If he had the money and the personal connections that this man had, his butt would be parked at the high-rollers table in Vegas with a broad in each arm and a drink at the ready. Not hanging out in this little piddle stop of a town that was hours away from any decent tailor. This story smelled like the scoop of the, no wait, the year! He would be known for the man that had exposed the juiciest story of the century.

He brushes the cuff of his coat, making sure that none of the grime from the quaint little Irish restaurant has found rubbed off onto his Dolce. Everything looks okay, so he returns his attention to his target: a feisty curly-haired doll-face nursing a Heineken. He would have never even noticed the broad, he preferred blonde and leggy himself, but she just happened to be the best friend of what he was coming to believe was his john's lady-bird.

He should have known it had to do with a woman. He just hadn't known until he had gotten here that it had to do with THAT woman. The woman the entire international community had assumed was just some local Italian woman the Duke had stowed away on the side. Like father, like son, right? Nothing too interesting about that. But through a heavy amount of investigative journalism (aka, pretending to be a student in his class), he had discovered the good ole doctor making covert googly eyes at one of his students. Nothing interesting about that either, except that he recognized the broad.

He wasn't entirely certain how he was going to get to the bottom of this juicy story, until he had spotted the best friend drinking alone. A woman drinking alone was just a shot away from spilling her secrets. Or in this case, her best friend's secrets. He checks the placement of his jacket lines, rubs off any crumbs from his front, pats the pocket with his audio recorder in it, and approaches the bar.

"Buy you a drink, doll-face?" He asks with a debonair air that has felled many a lady.

"You David Bowie?" Said doll-face answers without lifting her eyes from her drink.

"No." He answers, a little confused.

"Well, then this china doll is drinking alone." She declares dampeningly and pretty much dismisses him by taking another sip of her beer.

Oh, so we're going to play hard to get, are we? "Look babe…" He utters, before she interrupts him, with, "I am not an infant or a precocious pig, so you might want to pick another term of endearment."

"Hot stuff?" He says with a laugh.

She finally looks over at him, gives him the one-two, and must find something she likes, because she tells him, "Good choice. If you had picked chick, I would have…"

"Told me you weren't a baby chicken?" He interjects, as he starts to get comfortable on the adjoining bar seat.

He must have looked a little too comfortable though, because she zings him with, "No, I would have told you the 80's was a good decade, but they want their pick-up line back."

"Ouch." He responds, as he suddenly finds his bar-stool to be a little shaky. Or was that his mojo that just got shot down a peg or two?

"So you got any more where those came from?" She asks with a smirk.

"Honestly, I'm afraid to say anything now." He says hesitantly, as he indicates to the bar-tender that he'd like two of whatever she's having.

"Oh, come on. You must have something better than that. You're the one that's been staring at me from your little corner all night. You finally saunter up the courage, and all you've got is doll-face and hot stuff? I mean, seriously."

Did she just offer him a challenge? She doesn't look too interested, but yet she's still talking to him. Time to turn the tables a little bit. "Why? What should I have said?" He asks discreetly as two beers are placed before them.

She takes a slow sip of her beer, thinking about it for a moment and then answers deadpan, "Hey babe, wanna fuck?"

"Oh, so you like the direct route?" He asks, his interest starting to rise.

"No, then I could have just slapped you and you would be gone already." She says with a sigh and starts to rummage around in her purse.

Well, that certainly what wasn't he was expecting her to say. This was going to be a little harder than he thought. Maybe he should play the more subtle route. She had been sitting over here for a while nursing that beer. Maybe the friendly stranger bit would go over better.

"Look, I'm just in town for work, saw you sitting over hear by yourself, thought I'd strike up some conversation." He says with a sigh and starts to rise, beer in hand and all.

She reacts just as he wishes though. "Fine, you can sit there. But no touching. Or thinking about touching." She warns.

"Done." He answers, knowing he can't make any promise to either of those. He sits back down, and asks conversationally, "So what brings a broad like yourself to drinking alone in a bar on a Wednesday night?"

"Noises." She answers succinctly.

She doesn't elaborate, so he has to ask, "Noises?"

"Loud noises." She adds with a brooding tone before taking another sip of her beer.

"You mean like construction or a loud tv playin' or something?" He asks, trying to play along.

"Fucking." She answers back just as succinctly.

"Fucking?" He repeats as a question, really really confused at this point.

"Are you stupid or something? As in so loud I had to come down here and drink a beer, and put up with pansies like you, just to get some peace and quiet!" She yells at him, before settling down and moodily taking another sip of her beer.

Okay, obviously not the best topic to bring up. He scoots over a little bit on his stool, away from her, and takes a sip of his beer to look like he's actually doing anything but shying away. Just his luck that he had to get the one freakin crazy broad as the other broad's best friend.

He watches as she searches around in her bag once more, and angrily pulls out her phone. She must see something that she approves of though, because she sighs with relief and says, "Finally!"

Finally? He looks down at his watch to see that the time is 10 pm on the dot. Ten on the dot? What could that mean? It must be somehow related to the fucking, but he doesn't want to get his head bitten off again, and abstains from asking her any more questions. She doesn't seem to be paying one bit of attention to him anyhow. She gathers up all of her stuff and shoots out the door without even a glance in his direction. That's alright though. Because he's got a lead. And leads lead to stories being published. And this is certainly one story that's going to be published. He can feel it in his bones.


	17. Chapter 17

**I don't know what to say about this chapter. So right now we have Meredith and Derek together, but they have to keep it secret until the end of the semester at least. They can't acknowledge that they know each other in class (well more than casual acquaintances), can't go out on dates, etc. I think that would get pretty old pretty fast. And there's some lingering trust issues. So this is what I see happening. I think there's about four more chapters along with two epilogues. Do people like getting them once or twice a day or should I just put them all up?**

A week later, Meredith and Derek lie in bed together not an hour before class is supposed to begin. Derek had woken her up extra early to get in a vigorous bout of love-making. He had said otherwise he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about making love to her all the while that he was supposed to be teaching bright young minds. She had argued that she was one of those bright young minds, and lack of sleep would keep her from paying attention in class, but she hadn't really meant it. So now she lay curled up along his side, her head laying on his chest in a relaxing repose. His chest still moves with his labors, the sweat on their bodies still lingering.

Plus, she doesn't know when she will get to see him again. They usually give him Monday and Wednesday afternoons off to do class things, but a couple of times he had gotten paged in for an emergency patient. Sometimes he even had to go into his office and meet with students. Their first mid-term was coming up and some of the students were starting to get a little antsy. That reminded her: find time to study for that exam. She had been keeping up with homework and reading assignments for her other classes, but somehow all of that extra time she had set aside for exam studying just seemed to fly out the window when he was around. She wondered when exactly he had time to actually prepare materials for class. He had shown up here late last night after his shift at the hospital and fallen straight asleep. Until this morning, that is.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks in the peaceful silence.

It doesn't seem right to tell him about her lack of studying for his class, so she says instead, "I'm thinking if you don't get your ass up, you're going to be late for your own class."

She giggles when he tickles her with his scruff and says, "But I don't want to go! You can't make me." Where he proceeds to roll her over onto her back and snuggle into her chest.

"You're the teacher, you have to go." She giggles, laughing at his little boy antics.

"But I don't want to." He says in the voice of a petulant child. "I'm just going to stay right here all day."

She looks over at the clock and knows if she doesn't get going, there's not going to be time for both of them to shower and grab a quick coffee. She reluctantly slides out from under the covers, saying, "Well, these babies are moving to the shower."

When she slides out from under him, his head just slides down to the mattress. He does reluctantly raise himself up, and mutters, "You're mean. Just mean mean mean."

"You're the one that woke me up early." She responds, emphasizing the 'me' part. She can't help smiling at the way his hair sticks up in all directions though, and the glimpse she gets of his virile body before he wraps a sheet around his waist.

"You didn't tell me to stop." He says with a kiss to her temple as they both blearily head to the bathroom. No she didn't. She most certainly had not. Why would she want to?

That thought keeps her smiling all through their morning shower and toiletries. Well, that and various kisses in between. In fact, she's still smiling as she comes down the stairs fully dressed and ready for class. Derek had hopped out a quart of an hour before so that he could grab coffee and be at class before her. No use doing all of this sneaking around if they were going to be caught snuggling at the local Starbuck's. Only three more months, only three more months, she repeats to herself.

"Could you please stop smiling? I haven't had my morning coffee yet." Christina quips as she meets her in the front hallway.

"What? I have a lot to be smiley about." She answers with a smile as she locks the front door, and they make their way down the few blocks it takes to fill their morning quota of java.

"I know. I'm just jealous." Christina deadpans with a sigh.

"You? Jealous?" Meredith says disbelievingly.

"Okay, not jealous, just horny by association."

If Meredith had had coffee at that moment, she would have spit it out. Instead, she just laughs.

"Okay, that is a new one, even for you."

"It's just not fair! You guys give off pheromones or something."

"We do?" Meredith asks in distress. If Christina can see it, then anyone else can. She really doesn't want Derek to get fired, but she can't make herself give up the tiny piece of him she does have. It's not like they can actually go on real dates or anything. Hanover is just too small of a town.

"Meredith, he only has to look at you and you combust. You practically have eye sex in class every day." Christina points out with a small amount of disgust.

"No we don't!" She protests. "At least, I don't."

Christina only rolls her eyes at that. "Just deal with it. He stares, you crumble. End of story."

"But this is bad. I mean, he could lose his job if anyone found out."

"Oh yeah, and what about you?" Christina suddenly asks angrily.

Meredith stops to face her when she hears the vehemence in her friend's voice. "What do you mean, what about me?"

"What about YOU, Meredith? He's not the only one who could suffer if this got out. He's a Duke, Meredith. He doesn't need this job. He might want this job, but he doesn't NEED it. But this is your career. What do you really know about him, anyway?"

Meredith is taken aback by her friend's anger. "I know lots of things about him." She harrumphs.

"Oh yeah, then tell me where he lives." Christina counters while crossing her arms and glaring at her.

She's got her there. She doesn't know where he lives. It just hadn't seemed that important. Her apartment is only a few blocks from campus, so naturally they just ended up there. "It just never came up." She glares back.

"It just never came up." Christina grumbles to herself as she starts walking forward again.

Meredith can't let it go though. Something that Christina said has struck a chord. She grabs on to Christina's arm to make her turn around, and asks, "Christina, what is this really about?"

Christina stares sulkily at her for a second, but then very warmly says, "Meredith, this is the man that turned you into a walking zombie. You didn't see what you looked like when I found you that day. And now he comes walking back into your life, and you're all puppies and rainbows."

"But he explained about that. It was all just a big misunderstanding. He was going to ask me to stay." Meredith counters, the defense, even to her ears, not as strong as she would like it to be.

Christina gives her a long look. "All I am saying is that you are taking a big risk for someone that hasn't even told you where he lives."

Christina is right. Why hadn't he offered to have her over? It wasn't like she couldn't go over there after he got off of work. But that's stupid. It had just never come up.

"It just never came up." Meredith responds in a tiny voice.

"I know." Christina answers just as softly, putting her arm around Meredith in a comforting manner.

* * *

_Thursday morning…very very early Thursday morning…_

Man, he was tired. The day had started out good enough. He smiles at the memory of Meredith and him getting ready for "school" together: she was so serious about her morning toiletries that he couldn't help placing a kiss here and there to ruffle her up. She was so cute when she grumbled at him to not be so cheerful first thing in the morning. He just couldn't help it. He WAS cheerful. The last month of his life had just been wonderful. He was at the front-line of saving patients lives that he would have never seen at his private practice. Car crashes, falls from roofs, inoperable tumors, and creeping paralysis to just name a few. He had very long hours, as attested to him stumbling into Meredith's apartment at 3 o'clock in the morning.

This morning really felt like yesterday with everything that he had been through since then. He wasn't supposed to have even been working today. This time he had been paged right in the middle of a lecture! The students had been happy. He had not. He had been hoping for just one afternoon where he could actually catch up with his lectures. Right now he didn't have a clue as to what he was going to talk about on Monday. He thought he would have some time over the weekend, in the dead time between patients and surgeries, but a quick text message from Mark reminding him of their mother's birthday (Mark being pretty much her adopted son) had shattered that allusion.

How could he have forgotten? His own mother's birthday. Not that he hadn't had a lot on his plate, but still. He knew she would want to see him before the actual party, but he didn't know how he was actually supposed to make it to The Russian Tea Room by mid-afternoon with the 4-5 hour drive. Maybe if he left right after work Friday night, he could get in a couple of hours of sleep at a hotel before he had to be the prodigal son returneth. His family had gotten over the entire Italian non-wedding debacle, but moving to the middle of nowhere, and away from them, they were having a harder time with. Especially his mother. He hated doing it to her with dad not even being gone but a year, but sometimes you have to do things for yourself. And besides, she had all of his other siblings scattered around the New York metropolitan area. He guess he was her only son (Mark withstanding).

All of these thoughts jumble around in his head as he stumbles into the hall bleary-eyed and exhausted. After his first late night at the hospital, she had started leaving a key on top of the porch light for him. For which he was eternally grateful. Right now all he wants to do is just curl up around Meredith and go to sleep. He has to be back at the hospital in the morning to check on his post-op patients. Someone had fallen asleep at the wheel and caused a five-car pile-up. Right now he had a disturbing affinity with the perpetrator of that accident.

But instead of finding a dark and silent house, he sees the light from the kitchen on. He walks in to investigate, only to find Meredith sitting at the kitchen table with a plethora of books and notebooks spread around her. She's in her pajamas with her hair pulled back in a pony tail, but the circles under her eyes and a very large coffee cup next to her tells him that this isn't the first occurrence.

"Hey." He says softly, not wanting to shock her with his sudden appearance.

She looks up quickly, obviously not having heard him come in. The reason becomes apparent when she reaches up and removes ipod earphones from her ears. "Hey." She calls back to him with a soft smile.

"What's all this?" He asks with a gesture at the book-covered table.

"Midterms, Derek. You know, like the one we have in your class in a couple of weeks?" Meredith reminds him with a little laugh.

He had completely forgotten about that. Crap, when was he supposed to find the time to do that? She must see the look that comes over his face, because she leans back and asks smugly, "You haven't written it yet, have you?"

Sheepishly, he answers, "Well, it hasn't exactly been on my priority list." He says as he tosses down his brief-case on the floor and rubs his face vigorously.

"What exactly is on your priority list?" Meredith asks with kind of a funny tone to her voice, almost teasing, but almost not.

He opens his face to see something he didn't quite expect: wariness. "What's going on?" He asks in confusion.

She looks at him, then down at her book, as if she's deciding what she's going to say. "This may sound funny." She starts hesitantly. "But, where you live?"

That's what this is about? "But….I thought you knew." He says as he searches his memory. "I didn't tell you?

Her only answer is to shake her head.

"Well, I don't really live anywhere." He starts to explain.

She looks even more confused, so he continues with, "I'm staying at 'The Inn'. I decided on this job at pretty much the last minutes, and I didn't know if it would work out, so I decided to stay in a hotel."

"The one that looks over the Green?" She queries.

"Yeah. It was the closest thing I could find to campus. Why?"

"It's just that…you're always over here. And before it was because you were getting married. And now..." She rambles a little bit, not really making much sense, but he gets the drift of what she is trying to say. She won't look him in the eye.

He immediately gets up and picks her up from her chair, to take her seat and place her on his lap. He takes her chin in his hand so that she has to look at him when he says, "Hey, this is not like last time. I honestly thought I had told you. There's all sorts of people from campus coming and going there, I just thought you understood."

It's her turn to look a little sheepish, but her face does soften. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been worried. I guess it's just all of the sneaking around. It's just getting to me. I really don't know anything about you. I've never met any of your friends, or your family, or seen where you live. I trust you, it's just that…" She can't quite finish, just throwing up her hands.

And suddenly it all comes clear. She's perfectly right. He's met her mother. He's probably spent more time with her best friend than he ever wants to. He practically lives at her house. He hadn't really thought about it that way. He really doesn't know anyone here, so he can't introduce her to anyone. He had just been trying to spend as much time with her as possible. Which had to be in her apartment, or not at all. He could totally see how it might seem from her point of view as if he was hiding her away somewhere. And then he suddenly has a great idea.

"Hey, how would you like to go to a party?"

* * *

_Saturday: New York City_

"Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. I have to meet his mother. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God." Meredith whispers to herself as she throws things around in her suitcase looking for make-up bag.

She has her dress on already, a black sleeveless cocktail dress that meets at her neck to form an elegant turtleneck. Her shoes are around her somewhere. She has no idea. She's tossed things around and out of her suitcase so many times in the last hour that she has no idea where anything is anymore. The shoes can come later. Right now she has to put on her make-up. Yes, make-up.

"Derek? Have you seen my make-up bag?" She calls into the bathroom, not giving a second notice to the elegance of their surroundings on a topish floor at the Hotel Parker Meridien.

"Um." She hears him call back as if he's looking around. "Oh yeah, its right hear. You put it in here last night so you wouldn't have to go looking for it, remember?"

"So much for that theory." She mumbles to herself as she makes her way into the bathroom. Where she is greeted with Derek shaving in only his dress pants. He looks kind of harried and tired, but happy. He should be happy, it's his family. I'm the homewrecker extraodinaire that broke up her only son's wedding. Although he does look good with no shirt on.

He catches her standing in the doorway through the reflection in the mirror and winks at her before drawing the razor up the side of his face. She can't help smiling back and walks forward to hug him from behind. She lays her cheek against his back and asks again, "You're sure she knows I'm coming."

"I promise. I called Kathleen Thursday night and told her I was bringing you. The party is supposed to be a surprise, so I couldn't call her directly. But mom knows everything somehow, so I'm sure she knows by now." Derek explains again as he finishes shaving and wipes the residual shaving cream off with a washcloth.

He hadn't explained Kathleen's initial reaction: complete and utter silence followed by patent disbelief. Kathleen had been the only one he had told about what Meredith had really meant to him. She knew the whole harrowing story of how he had searched for Meredith from afar. She knew about the unanswered phone calls and the trips to Boston. What she didn't know was what he had found there. He didn't know if it was his pride or what it was, but he just hadn't been able to tell her what he had found. For all she knew, he just hadn't been able to find her. So imagine her surprise when he had called up to say that he was bringing Meredith to Mom's birthday party.

_Thursday at work, he waits until a decent hour, and calls her up at her office. "Hey Sis, what's up?"_

"_What's up? What's up with me? What's up with you? I feel like I haven't talked to you in forever!" Kathleen answers back in the only way older sisters can. "So what time are you getting here Saturday?"_

"_Well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about." He hedges._

_She must hear the hesitation in his voice, because she immediately dives in with, "You are coming, aren't you? You know mom expects you to be there. We all expect you to be there. You're coming, right?"_

"_Yes, yes, I'm coming!" He says with exasperation._

"_Alright, then what's this 'I want to talk to you about something crap'" She eagles in._

"_I want to bring someone." He tells her and then almost thinks she's dropped the phone when he doesn't hear anything for a couple of seconds._

"_Have I met this someone?" She asks with no small amount of suspicion. He hasn't told anyone in the family yet about him and Meredith. Everything is just so precious and new that he hasn't wanted to burst the bubble. It's just him and Meredith, and he kind of likes it that way. The fastest way to blow their covert relationship would be to tell a Shepherd. Tell one, and then another would be down here poking around. One sister tells another, who tells her husband, and the next thing you know, the entire world knows. Not exactly the best way to keep a secret._

"_Um…kind of?" He answers with an uncertain tilt to his voice._

"_Derek Michael Shepherd, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" She demands as only an older sister can._

_Why did he call her again? How come she's the only one that can make him feel like a little boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar when he's in his 30's? "It's Meredith." He admits softly, and for the second time in the conversation, the phone goes silent._

"_THE Meredith." She demands, but a little more softly._

"_Yes, THE Meredith." He answers just as softly. And waits._

_A few seconds go by, and then she hesitantly asks, "And you want to bring her to Mom's birthday party?"_

"_Yes." He answers simply._

"_Oh."_

"_Oh? That's all I get is an 'oh'?" He asks, a little offended to tell you the truth. "She's a student here at Dartmouth. We somehow crazily found each other again. I don't know how it happened, but somehow fate intervened and…."_

"_And you're happy." She says with almost a tired sigh._

"_Yeah, I am." He says, smiling into the phone as he says it._

"_And you want to bring her to mom's birthday party." She answers even more self-pityingly._

"_Kathleen." He warns, telling her with one word how much this means to him._

"_Fine." She gives in. "Well, here's what we're going to do then…."_

They had decided that Kathleen was going to tell everyone that he was bringing his new girlfriend. He wouldn't have time to tell his mom before the party, but before they left he was going to tell her how much Meredith meant to him. The rest of them could go hang.

After toweling off his face, he turns around in Meredith's arms and places a kiss a kiss on the top of her head. "You have nothing to worry about. She's going to love you. Because I love you. And that's all that matters, right?"

She looks into his hopeful eyes and doesn't have the heart to gainsay him. A little part of her wants his mom to love her too, but she would never admit that out loud. Her own mother doesn't like her. Why should his?

"Right." She answers with a smile, and then shoves him out of the bathroom to get ready. She starts to apply her make-up in the bathroom mirror and all of these thoughts jumble around in her head. She doesn't want to be late. She better hurry up. She still has to find those shoes. And her earrings. Where are those earrings? Dangit, where did everything go to? Or maybe they should be fashionably late? No, because then everyone would be staring at them. Or staring at her more likely. The international floozy who broke up their precious Derek's wedding and sent him off to the wilds of New Hampshire. Oh my God, there are so going to hate her.

She finishes putting on her make-up, and then flies out of the bathroom asking, "Derek, have you seen my…" when she unceremoniously bumps right into him.

"You mean these?" He says as he holds up her shoes with one hand and her earrings in the other with a big grin. She's so freaked out and scattered, that she hardly even notices how nice he looks in his form-fitted black suit, white shirt, and an incongruous black and dark green striped tie. It's only tea-time, but it is his mother's birthday and it is in The Russian Tea Room. Which is thankfully just down the block, or they would so be late right now.

She throws her shoes and earrings on, and then straightens up to look directly at Derek. He smiles back at her in a slightly amused, slightly supportive manner, and takes her arm. They walk out the door and into the hotel hallway, where he says again, "It's going to be okay, Meredith," as they stand and wait for the elevator to come.

The door pings open, and she follows him in, just a little too nervous at this point to answer him back. The door closes and suddenly she finds her back pressed up against the elevator with Derek kissing her wildly. Mmm, that feels good. Kissing in elevators. This is a great idea. We should do this more often. She leans in to kiss him back, but before she knows it, the elevator pings again and the door opens again.

Derek scoots back, but not before she catches the amused look in his eye. "And just was that for Mister?" She amusedly demands as they exit onto the lobby and out the front doors.

"I made you forget about my mom's party for a second, didn't I?" He answers with a little twinkle as he straightens his tie and fixes his hair. She must have mussed it a little bit in the elevator. She guesses she did need that. She laughs at his still slightly mussed hair and takes his hand. They share a secret smile as they walk out into the sunshine.


	18. Chapter 18

**Caterpillar, my faithful commenter, has requested that I put these all up as fast as I can, so I will oblige. I need to read through them and format them correctly before I post them, but I plan on putting up the whole story by the end of this long weekend. I have to toot my own horn and say that I love this chapter. Meredith is going to meet the entire Shepherd clan and we could see by the end of the last chapter that she was a giant wreck. I've set this up as a dinner in the Russian Tea Room in NY. So we've got a fancy dinner with Momma Shep, the four sisters, and their husbands, Derek, and Meredith. Oh, and Mark. Ha ha. It was a real challenge and a lot of fun to think up separate personalities for each person and to have them interact with each other. Let's just say that it took a while. I'm going to stop blabbering so you can read it. Enjoy!**

Meredith and Derek walk into the tearoom, and immediately the concierge knows who Derek is and leads them up the stairs to the second floor. Meredith is reminded of all of those people in Rome that knew Derek as the Duke and treated him accordingly. She had kind of forgotten about it to tell you the truth. At Dartmouth he is just another professor. A hot professor, but a professor none the less. No one could recognize him on site. She's not even sure if anyone even knows he's considered minor royalty.

But ever since they walked in the Tea Room, Derek has stood a little straighter and put on a much more regal air. She wonders if he even realizes that he does it. He's still holding her hand though. In fact, he has held onto it the entire walk from the hotel and refuses to let go. Maybe she's not the only one that is nervous. To support her thought, he tugs on his tie like it's choking him a little, but stops when he catches her watching him.

"What?" He asks with a teasing grin.

"Nothing." She says with a suppressed smile.

They move up the stairs into a foyer separated from the other room by a series of large double doors. The concierge goes to open the door, but Derek stops him with, "Just a sec."

He turns to Meredith and looks into her clear green eyes and knows that everything is going to be okay. All that matters is that they love each other. "You ready?" He asks with a huge breath, inadvertently showing Meredith that he is actually nervous about this too.

Somehow this makes her feel a little better about the whole thing, so she squeezes his hand and says with a confident smile, "Let's go meet your family."

Derek smiles warmly back at her, nods to let the concierge open the door, and suddenly they are there.

Derek looks into the familiar room of fantastic Russian décor added to by a bit of whimsy. Directly before them in the middle of a long room is a golden tree that stretches almost all of the way up to a stained glass ceiling. Hanging on every branch is a giant lit up pear in the many colors of the rainbow. On the far side of the room is a giant crystal bear sculpture stretching its body to the sky. Set in the midst of these two great works of art is a table set for eleven with five on each side and the place of honor for the birthday girl. The walls are lined with mirrors, refracting the entire scene in almost too-bright luminescence.

All of the activity seems to be occurring at the far end of the room, with people milling around at what seems to be an open bar. He leads Meredith along the length of the room, suddenly glad to be seeing his family again. He used to see them all of the time when he lived in New York, but with all of the traveling and moving to Hanover, the last time he had seen them all in the same room was at his father's funeral. He suddenly realizes that this will be his mom's first birthday without his father.

The first person he sees when they enter the fracas is Kathleen and her husband, Nick.

"Hey Sis. Did you save any for me?" He calls to her back, noticing the full glass of wine in her hand.

She turns around, followed quickly by her husband, and quickly embraces him. She hugs him hard, and he finds himself hugging her back just as hard. They both have tears in their eyes when they part, but both squelch them in favor of introductions.

"Nick, how are you doing?" He asks Kathleen's husband as they shake hands.

"Oh, same ole, sale ole. You know how it is." Nick answers good-naturedly. Derek always liked Nick. He was a good guy, and he made his sister happy. He was one of those god-forsaken lawyers, but he made his sister laugh and that's all that mattered.

Both Kathleen and Nick immediately look over at Meredith. Before he can introduce her though, she sticks out her hand and says, "Hi, I'm Meredith. You must be Kathleen."

Kathleen's eyes light up at the sparky greeting, and she slides a smile of approval over to Derek as she shakes Meredith's hand. "This is my husband, Nick." Kathleen tells Meredith, and Meredith shakes Nick's hand too.

"Nice to meet you, Meredith." He greets her warmly. "Don't worry, we don't bite. And if you put enough alcohol in us, we might even tell you some embarrassing Derek stories."

"Really." She remarks with interest, and looks up to see Derek having some slight discomfiture.

Before she can say anything else though, a very virile and handsome man in a Grey Armani suit slides his up behind Derek and Kathleen and puts his arms around them both.

"What's shaken, bro? And who's the hot momma you brought with you?" He asks when he notices Derek holding Meredith's hand.

"This is my girlfriend, Meredith, but you aren't allowed to talk to her." Derek responds half good-naturedly and half not.

But before Mark can say anything, a brunette ducks under Mark's arm to give Derek a hug, and says, "Hey Bro. Who's Mark not allowed to talk to?"

"Amy, this is my girlfriend, Meredith. Meredith, this is the youngest of the Shepherd clan, Amy."

Amy immediately twirls around behind Derek and comes around to stand between Meredith and Nick. "Hi, I'm Amy." She says with a proffered hand.

Meredith is relaxing with all of the friendly greetings, until Amy says, "Hey, do I know you from somewhere? You look familiar. Did you go to school in the city?"

She flits a meaningful glance to Derek, but keeps it together and responds, "No, I grew up in Boston. My mom's the Chief of Surgery at Boston General."

Amy still looks a little determined, but they are interrupted by Mark intervening, "You're mom's Ellis Grey? Derek, how come you didn't tell us your girlfriend's mom was Ellis Grey." As he playfully smacks Derek upside the head.

"Hey." Derek immediately responds to the slap, but before he can intervene, Meredith explains, "It's alright. It's just not something I go around telling people."

Four sets of curious eyes stare back at her, while one set of eyes gives her courage. "So are you going to follow in her foot-steps, then?" Kathleen asks kindly.

"Well, I am going to medical school. But whether or not I'm going to be a surgeon…" Meredith answers with a shrug.

"Wait a minute, you go to Dartmouth?" Amy asks in excitement.

The little group goes quiet with that little piece of salacious news, but then Mark pats Derek on the back with, "You old horn dog, you. I didn't know you had it in you."

Derek looks embarrassed, and starts to say, "Well, actually, we…."

When Mark is unceremoniously shoved away to reveal what, yet again, must be a Shepherd sister. And standing not far behind, is a very handsome but brooding man with dark hair and dark eyes and an extreme amount of stubble.

"Mark, stop hogging Meredith. I want to meet her too." The dark-haired woman orders, and Mark obliges by moving back. Kathleen and Nick move over too, so that the circle widens to welcome the newcomers. But before Derek can introduce them, the last two remaining members of the room push their way in.

"Thanks for remembering us, Nancy." The remaining Shepherd sister cracks petulantly to the woman that pushed Mark aside.

"It's not like you didn't know where we were." Nancy answers with a little roll to her eyes, as only older sisters can do.

"Alright, alright, you two, stop it. I want to introduce you to Meredith." Derek intervenes good-naturedly. Even though Meredith thinks that Derek is probably only older than two of the sisters in the room, they all shut up to see what he has to say.

Meredith suddenly finds nine pairs of eyes on her. Meredith can only stare back, as Derek calls out, "Meredith, this is Nancy and her husband David, and the petulant one is Lia with her husband Jake."

She is never going to remember all of these names. Nancy looks back at her with ill-concealed superiority, while her husband just looks bored. Lia looks much friendlier though, and her husband is simply gorgeous. Not as good looking as Derek, mind you, but getting pretty up there.

"Nice to meet you, Meredith." Nancy says very culturally, almost like it is Meredith's privilege to be acknowledged by Nancy.

David just broodily nods over his glass of wine, but Lia comes across the circle and gives Meredith a big hug. Meredith can feel the warmth of Lia's personality in that hug and is glad for it. Lia disentangles herself from Meredith with a warm smile and goes back to her spot next to her husband. Jake places his arm around Lia and gives a Meredith a friendly nod from his place in the circle.

"So, am I hogwash or something? It is my birthday, isn't it?" An older female voice calls from outside the circle.

* * *

Derek immediately turns around with a huge grin on his face and bends down to embrace what must only be his mother. And now the real test begins, Meredith thinks as she wishes she had had time to down a glass or two of wine herself. 

Katherine breaks free from her only sons embrace and immediately notices the extreme happiness that is evident on his face. She can't remember the last time he was this happy. His eyes shine with his happiness and a great weight seems to have lifted off of his shoulders. It's curious, but she never really noticed that there was a weight. But now that it's gone, she can't help but notice how much more alive and handsome he looks.

"Happy birthday, mom." He says softly with a grin, and she can't help thinking how much more he reminds her of Vittorio every day. So un-alike in their personal habits, but the same charm and bearing that makes every woman around stand up and take notice.

She smiles back pleasantly, but then her eye-sight is drawn to the woman to his left. Ah, so this must be Meredith. The poor girl keeps twisting her watch around on her left hand over and over. She remembers how nervous she was when she first had to meet Vittorio's parents. She had been an absolute wreck. She had changed her outfit so many times that Vittorio had told her if she didn't pick something in the next ten minutes; she was going to have to go naked. The memory makes her smile.

"And this must be Meredith." Katherine says to Derek, but while looking at Meredith.

Derek turns to Meredith and takes her hand in his again. Katherine had noticed them holding hands as she had walked in the room. She thought it was cute. Derek had certainly never held hands with Addison in public. She starts to think that this girl must be the reason that Derek is so happy.

And her thought is justified when she catches a small secret exchange between them, before Derek turns to her and says, "Mom, this is Meredith. Meredith, my mother."

Meredith breaks her hand free from Derek's to hold out to her and says, "Hi Mrs. Shepherd, Derek has told me so much about you."

"There'll be no hand-shaking on my birthday. Give me a hug." She offers as she holds out her arms and embraces the person she's pretty sure is going to be her daughter-in-law someday. There's just something about the way that the two of them look at each other that makes her pretty certain of that fact.

The poor girl stiffens up, but then relaxes enough to give her a small pat back. You can learn a lot from the way a person hugs. This girl is not used to being hugged. There's got to be a story there, but it can wait until later. When she pulls away, Meredith is flushed with embarrassment, but her smile is brighter, and Derek is looking at Meredith with an 'I told you so' look.

Katherine suddenly realizes that the rest of the brood has been silently watching the little scene. She can't have that. Everyone is a little too quiet for her liking. "What're all of the rest of you staring at?" She tells the rest of the group. And then to Meredith, "We'll sit down and have a chat a little later, alright?"

Meredith stiffens up noticeably, but she squelches it quickly. "And you too, Mister. I've got a beef to pick with you." She tells her son, before she goes off in search of her own glass of wine.

* * *

As soon as Momma Shep, that being what everyone calls her, had gotten a glass of wine, she had herded everyone over to the table. Momma Shep had wanted her two boys next to her, since she hadn't gotten to see either one of them in a really long time, and everyone else just sort of sorted themselves out. Meredith properly took the seat to Derek's left, with Lia taking a seat next to her and her husband to her left. Amy had scooted in next to Mark, so Kathleen sat to Amy's right and her husband followed her. Leaving Nancy to Nick's right and Nancy's husband across the table and next to Jake. 

Whew! Meeting momma Shep went over sooo much better than Meredith had thought it would. She seemed generally nice and obviously really loved Derek. That hug had caught her by surprise, but it had almost felt good. All of the Shepherds, well almost all, were really nice. They seemed to have such an easy-going relationship with one another. Something very different from the partially veiled hostility that was always brewing between her and her mother. There were just so many of them though!

She looks around at everyone gabbing to each other, when Lia taps her on the shoulder and asks, "Would you like a glass of wine, Meredith?"

Meredith looks up to see a waiter holding up a bottle of wine. Gosh, she hadn't even heard him walk up! "Um, yeah, that'd be great." She stumbles with a faulty smile.

She must see something in Meredith's smile, because Lia leans down and says, "It's going to be alright, you've passed the momma test. One's that's over, the coast is clear."

"The momma test?" Meredith asks a little dubiously, keeping her voice as low as Lia's.

"Yeah, as long as momma likes you, everyone else falls in line. Dad liked to think he was in charge, but we all know who ruled the roost." Lia says with a wink.

Meredith giggles and asks, "Has anyone not passed?"

"You see David down there? The brooding one?" Lia asks conspiratorially. Meredith just nods, so she continues with, "He's never been in momma's good graces, so he always gets delegated to the ends of the earth. Or the back end of the table, as the case may be."

Meredith outright laughs at that, alerting the entire table to their conversation. "What are you girls laughing about down there? Something you can share with the rest of us?" Momma Shep asks in a teasing manner.

Meredith giggles up into Derek's face, leaving Lia to answer, "No, I was just telling Meredith some of the Shepherd family rules."

"I didn't know there were any rules in this family." Mark comments silkily.

"Yeah, I want to know what some of these rules are." Amy adds on.

Derek silently asks with his eyebrows, but Meredith's only answer to the table is, "I promised not to tell."

The entire table goes into a minor uproar at that, which gives Derek time to whisper into her ear, "You're going to tell me later, right?"

The waiters start to ladle soup into their bowls, as Momma Shep questions, "So Kathleen tells me you go to Dartmouth?"

Meredith sneaks a glance at Kathleen, but Kathleen just smiles back at her encouragingly. She knows that Derek has told Kathleen some things, but she's not sure how much. What can she say that won't give things away? "Uh, yes. I just started." She answers vaguely as she starts to ladle some of her soup into her mouth.

"Fresh meat, Derek?" Mark comments from his side of the table. "I didn't know you had it in you."

Derek starts to make a comment, but Momma Shep steps in and slaps Mark on the arm and tells him, "Be nice."

"Owe." Mark responds, and rubs his shoulder like she hurt him, but Momma Shep only laughs at his little boy antics.

This opens up the floor for Kathleen's husband, Nick, to ask, "So the Dartmouth job is working out for you then, Derek?"

All heads turn to Derek on that question. It is all something they would like to know, since it was this job that took him away from them. Derek is very positive though, and says, "Yeah, I really like it. The teaching is a bit new, and the hours suck, but I'm getting to see surgeries at the hospital that I never saw in private practice."

The topic inadvertently reminds the table of the other woman that usually sits in Meredith's spot at the table. The table goes a little quiet and everyone seems to take a moment to take a sip of their soup. Derek doesn't pick up on it though, and just puts his arm around Meredith and says, "Well, plus I've got Meredith there," before he scoots in for a quick kiss.

Meredith smiles at the public display of affection, but is startled out of her reverie by someone's spoon clattering into their bowl. She looks up to see Amy looking at her wide-eyed, barely noticing the splotches of soup on the front of her dress.

Meredith freezes, and her and Derek exchange a look, when Amy gets up from the table. "Um, excuse me. I seem to have…I'll be right back." She announces to the table, before kicking Kathleen in the leg and making Kathleen come with her. Meredith knows something is wrong when Amy looks back over her shoulder at her and Kathleen walk out of the room. It's a look that says she just recognized who Meredith is. And she doesn't look too happy about it.

Nervously, Meredith covers the exit by saying, "Yeah, Derek is a really good teacher."

"Oh, so you've seen Derek teach then." Nancy says with a barely concealed insinuation.

* * *

He had to count on Nancy for always bringing up the hard questions. He's pretty sure Amy just figured out where she has seen Meredith from. Crap. He watches Nancy and Meredith share a look, and then Meredith looks up at him like she wants him to do something. 

He stumbles out, "Yeah, Meredith sits in my class all the time." God that sounded lame.

Meredith thinks so too, because she just rolls her eyes at him. All of the sudden Mark blurts out, "Oh shit, man." And starts laughing uncontrollably.

Derek glares at him, but it only makes him laugh harder. The servers provide a little distraction by clearing away the soup bowls, but Lia can't help but ask, "What's so funny, Mark?"

"Yes, please do share, Mark." Nancy adds from down the table.

"Yes, Mark, what is so funny?" Momma Shep adds.

"Yes, what's so funny?" Derek grits out with a well placed kicked to Mark's shin. He's not sure how he feels about Mark at this moment. They used to be friends. They used to be best friends. But there's just something about catching a man in bed with the woman that was supposed to be your fiancé that takes the word 'best' off of a friendship. He's not even sure if the word 'friend' is still there. Even though he had cheated on said fiancé before he had known about the Mark cheating. Which was beside the point. So they were somewhere in between friends and not friends, if that made any sense. Which is what worried him about the laughing. Mark would have no compunction about blurting out what he thinks Mark has figured out.

But Mark surprises him and just winks at him and says, "Nothing, nothing. I just remembered something funny that happened to me earlier in the day."

Everyone, except him and Meredith, looks at him like he has just grown a third head, but he just brushes it off like this is something he normally does. Which he doesn't.

Just then, the girls come saddling back from the bathroom, sans soup on Amy's dress, and they look very confused as they sit down. Maybe it's because the entire table is deathly silent and staring at Mark.

"What? What's going on?" Amy asks as she finds her chair.

"Yeah? What'd we miss?" Kathleen adds.

"Nothing. Just Mark going insane, that's all." Nancy remarks flippantly. "Nothing new for this family."

Amy looks a little more subdued and Kathleen a little more settled, so he assumes Kathleen gave Amy a talking to. Just what he needs, his sisters conspiring behind his back. But he must have been mistaken, because while the servers are placing out the main course, Amy asks over a server's arm, "So how did you two meet?"

He simultaneously glares at her while Kathleen kicks her in the shin. If he had been closer to her, he would have done it himself. "What?" She hisses at Kathleen. "It's a simple question!"

He looks over to see Meredith totally deer in the headlights. He puts his leg up against hers to let her know that everything is going to be okay. She doesn't look up at him though. Why does his family have to be like this? Why can't they just leave it alone? This is his life, for pete's sake. "I helped Meredith out of a very sticky situation." He responds vaguely, but just specific enough that it should make them shut up.

"Oh, so you were her knight in shining armor? That's so sweet, Derek." Lia remarks, totally incognizant of all of the under-currents flowing around the table.

"Well, more like a gentle stalker." Meredith remarks with a teasing grin up at Derek.

Derek smiles at the reminder of his unorthodox methods of getting to spend time with her. "It would have never worked if you hadn't been my bellezza di sonno." He says pretty much to her alone.

Her emerald eyes shine up at him, and she unthinkingly remarks, "You know I was jet-lagged."

Another gasp is heard from the end of the table. This time it is from Nancy. She starts choking on the sip of water she had just taken, and Nick has to pat her on the back to get her stop coughing.

"You're just figuring it out, Nancy?" Her husband calls to her from across the table. He says it almost evilly. That marriage must not be going too well.

"Did you know?" Nick asks Jake, one brother-in-law to the other.

"I knew the minute she walked in, I just wasn't going to say anything." Jake responds in kind.

"What? What's going on?" Lia says as she looks between the two of them in bewilderment.

Derek looks around the table at all of his siblings and siblings-by-marriage, and asks Meredith, "Can I tell them? I think most of them already know anyway."

Meredith looks like she's about to bolt. About the only think holding her there is his leg firmly planted against hers. She's shaking like a leaf. He hates to do this to her, but at this point it's probably better just to get it over with.

His mother, who has been abnormally quiet this entire evening, places a hand on his arm. He turns, and she says, "Derek, all that matters to me is that you are happy. If Meredith makes you happy, then I'm happy."

He almost tears up. Leave it to his mom to find what is important in a situation.

"Meredith makes me very happy." He tells her, while the entire table watches silently.

Her turns to Meredith and finds her almost tearing up too. He squeezes her hand, and says to the table at large, "Meredith and I met in Rome the week before I was supposed to marry Addison. You probably recognize her from the picture in the paper."

He looks around to see the entire table hanging on his every word. Surprisingly, it feels good to get the words out. His mother is right, all that matters is that they love each other. "I thank my lucky stars every day that I met Meredith when I did." He says to the table, but then turns to address the last part to her alone. "Otherwise I would have never known what real love felt like. A series of...misfortunes kept up apart, but fate was kind enough to intervene and put Meredith as a student in my class."

He hears a couple of gasps from that statement, but he doesn't care. All he cares about is the loving look in Meredith's eyes. He turns to look at the rest of the table, and says, "And now I think we're going to go."

He starts to rise, but Amy calls out in a contrite voice, "No, Derek, don't go."

"Yes, we promise to behave." Lia adds on with a pleading look.

"Lia, you always behave." Derek says in a loving tone.

"I know. I was just saying it for other people at this table who might have a hard time in getting the words out." She remarks sweetly, but with a meaningful glance toward Nancy's end of the table.

"She's right, Derek." Nancy adds, not quite able to say it, but alluding to Lia's statement.

He knows Kathleen is in his corner, so he doesn't even have to look up to see her supportive countenance.

It's really only up to one person. "Meredith?" He asks, her knowing exactly what he's asking with that one word.

She looks around the table at each of the sisters, especially at his mother, and with a soft smile says, "I think I'd like to stay."

And that settles it. Things are quiet for a little while as everyone absorbs what just happened. But then mundane conversation starts to pop up, sisters start to squabble over age old rivalries, and dinner moves on to dessert and after dinner drinks. Now that everything is out in the open, at least with his family, he feels like a weight that he didn't even know he had been carrying has lifted. And before the night is over, Meredith is parrying and jousting with the rest of them, just like she belongs. Derek looks heavenward, and even though he can't see the stars through the stain glass ceiling, he gives the stars their thanks anyway and could honestly die at that moment a contented man.


	19. Chapter 19

**This chapter is in two parts. The first is what I like to call just desserts and the second is that Momma Shep wanted some time alone with Meredith. I like the juxtaposition of momma Shep and Mer's mom. I wanted to give Mer another frame of reference to help her realize just how messed up things are with her family. That things don't have to be that way. So enjoy!**_  
_

_Meanwhile, back in Hanover..._

Christina had decided after the entire too-depressed-to-get-dressed and then boy-toy-replacement-fiasco for the married-man-that-never-got-married drama, that she was going to google any man that she found even remotely interesting. And boy was she glad that she had! Interesting is what she would call a man that continuously found himself at the same bar as her on the same nights of the week and at the same times that she was. He hadn't approached her since the time she totally ignored him, but she knew he was there and that he was looking at her.

She knew he wanted to sleep with her, but that there was just something more to it than that. I mean, what guy returns night after night in search of the same broad and then doesn't even approach her? Maybe she had bruised his ego or something. More like popped the inflated balloon. But he didn't look deflated. In fact, he looked even more smug and sure of himself than usual. Normal guys got turned down and went on to the next broad. They didn't sit in the same vacant booth with their bottle of beer and pretend not to look at you. There was just something a little too fishy about that.

So she had looked him up. The dumb twit had been inflated enough to use his own name when he had introduced himself. Rule number one for if she ever decided to become a big-name tabloid reporter: don't give out your real name. Or the name you write your stories with, that is. Google had returned an entire host of stories with the glaring byline of one Alex Karev. One Alex Karev that was nursing a beer in his usual corner of the bar. One Alex Karev that had tried to pick her up not a couple of weeks ago and just happened to be at the bar every time she was. Something stank, and she thinks it's one hot-shot tabloid reporter cowering in the corner.

She takes a last swig from her beer and slams it down on the bar. She straightens her black leather jacket around her shoulders, pulling it straight and flipping up the collar. She grabs her bag and plops herself down in the chair directly opposite of him.

He lifts a single eyebrow in an inquiring manner.

"My roommate is gone for the weekend." She insinuates. She doesn't have to explain. He knows exactly what that means. She'll give him that: he wasn't stupid.

An interesting moment of panic crosses his face, but then he quickly relaxes. That was interesting.

"Is that so?" He replies in an interested but-trying-not-to-be-too-interested manner.

She gets up from her seat and stands to give him a look. "Are you coming or not?" She inquires impatiently.

He hesitates, so she walks out. But not before she hears him snatch up his jacket and keys and follow her out the door. Just like she thought he would. Stupid ass.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Christina sits on the floor of her bedroom, half-clothed and half-drunk. Well, Alex was pretty drunk, while Christina was not. Thanks to pre-poured shots of vodka that were full strength for him and half-strength for her. And also thanks to her having won seven out of the last ten hands of strip poker. For her three losses, she had strategically removed her belt (had to get comfortable), her jacket (she didn't want to be hot), and her shirt (so that he would be distracted). He had more haphazardly lost both shoes, both socks, his belt, his jacket and his overshirt. At this moment he had only his under-shirt, pants, and underwear to lose, while she still had both shoes and socks, her pants, bra, and underwear. Man, this was fun.

"When I said I wanted to get naked, I meant both of us at the same time." He kind of slurs as he stairs at his cards a little uncertainly, like he has to squint to make out just what he has.

"What does it matter how we get there, as long as we do?" Christina asks as she stairs down at her pair of pairs. One more hand should about do it.

"I guess so." He mumbles uncertainly. "Well, show me what you got." He says as he places his cards down on the floor.

A pair of queens. Very nice. But not nice enough to beat her two pairs. "No, you show me what you've got." She calls out triumphantly as she places her cards down in front of her with a little snap against the floor.

"Ah!" He cries out at another game lost. He starts to lift his under-shirt over his head, but it gets stuck somewhere around his head. "If we weren't using my cards, I'd think you were cheating or something." He mumbles through his shirt.

"Don't forget to take your shot." She says triumphantly as she watches him fumble around with his shirt. Somehow, he has gotten one arm looped back through the arm hole.

He finally does figure it out though, and she's rewarded with a well-sculpted chest. "Very nice." She calls out appreciatively as she takes a few nibbles out of a peanuts snack she brought up.

"Why thank you, I try." He answers smugly as he takes another shot of vodka and then winces at the potent liquor burning down his throat.

Ass. If he hadn't been such a complete ass, she might have possibly considered sleeping with him. Now all she wants to do is get some answers and kick his ass to the curb. She wouldn't let him know that though.

He shakes his head to clear his head of the new alcohol, sort of like a dog trying to dry himself off. He's a dog, alright. About halfway through the shake, he starts to tilt over and has to brace himself so that he doesn't fall over. Perfect.

She picks up the cards to deal, and asks nonchalantly, "So Alex, you really haven't told me what work it is that has you in town."

"Oh, I can't tell you phat." He tries to say all suavely, but his speech is getting thicker and the swaying a little extreme.

"Why not?" She asks coolly, shuffling the cards in her hands as she secretly tries to watch him hold his liquor. Or not, as the case may be.

"Cause you might tell your friend." He says with a hiccup.

"Meredith?" She asks in surprise, momentarily forgetting the cards in her hands. But she quickly snaps to, doling them out.

Alex holds up his index finger to his mouth and sh's her. "You can't tell anyone. It's a secret." He says seriously, but then ruins it by giggling.

"Can't tell anyone what?" She asks, trying to sound like she doesn't care one way or the other what comes out of his mouth.

Alex very painstakingly picks up his cards, and while holding them up in front of his face and squinting at them, says, "You ever hear of the double-dealing Duke?"

"Maybe."

"Well, he's a professor here at this campus." He says with an exaggerated up and down motion of his head.

"Really." She says with feigned interest as she discards.

"And you know what else?" He asks pointedly, putting down his cards on the floor to let her know that what he says next is the really important thing.

"What?" She answers, staring back just as pointedly.

"The person he double-dealed with lives in this house." He gets out, before he starts to look a little funny. His face is all flushed and his eyes just won't stay open. He tries to prop them open a couple of times, but eventually they just roll back in his head. And he finally succumbs to all of the alcohol and lands in a giant heap on the floor.

Christina immediately gets up, a little woozy, but nowhere near his state of inebriation, and pulls him off of the floor and on to the bed. She takes his pants off and throws them onto the floor. Tighty whiteys, she should have known. But she doesn't join him in bed. Oh no. She searches through his jacket for her prize, his palm pilot, and scrolls through until she has found what she is after. Who says Dukes are the only ones that can do a little double-dealing?

* * *

Meredith and Derek have been sitting outside at the Parker Meridien's terrace restaurant having breakfast with Derek's mom for the past hour. Well, I guess technically you would call it brunch because they were having breakfast food, but it was more around lunch time. They had stayed up way too late enjoying the amenities of the private pool. They had even done a little swimming too. Derek's mother had called mid-morning and invited them down for breakfast before they left. So now they found themselves at a neat little linen-covered table surrounded by whicker chairs with the sun partially deflected by ginormous cloth umbrellas.

Meredith feels under-dressed in jeans and white long-sleeved blouse, but Derek said his mom wouldn't care. He himself had worn jeans too and a zip-up dark-blue pullover. But it was his mom. He could probably come in wearing a toga and his mother would be fine with it. Her mother, on the other hand, had always made little comments about whatever she wore on the few occasions they actually went out together anywhere. It was usually just a little too short, or too slutty, than something Ellis Grey's daughter should be wearing. So she was especially conscious of her dress that morning.

Derek's mom hadn't said anything about it though. She had actually complimented her on her white espadrilles. She herself had dressed in a red patterned blouse and white pants, obviously expensive but casual at the same time. Derek's mom was actually pretty great. She had said those wonderful things to Derek last night when he had told the family about how they met and who she was. The entire family had actually been pretty great, considering what they had been told. After the initial shock, all that seemed to matter was that Derek was happy. She just couldn't fathom it. When had her mother ever cared whether she was happy or not? She had always heard about families like Derek's, large and boisterous but loving, but she had never gotten to see one up close. It was an entirely new experience for her.

Even now Momma Shep and Derek were sharing a conversation about the latest accomplishments and foibles of the Shepherd clan. Apparently, two of the she-hadn't-figured-out-how-many nieces were in a fight because they both wanted to be someone called Hermione for Halloween. She didn't even know who that was, but apparently it was very important that only one of them got to be her. And only one. She takes a sip of her coffee and just watches the ease with which Derek converses with his mom and the obvious affection that they share. It just seems so easy for them. Why couldn't things be like that between her and her mother?

"Oh, here we are going on and on about people you have never met. You must be bored silly." Momma Shep says to her, when she notices that Meredith hasn't said anything in a while.

She shares a happy glance with Derek, before commenting, "Actually, I think it's kind of nice."

"What's nice? Us ignoring you or boring you silly?" Momma Shep jokes with the same twinkle that Meredith admires so much in her son.

Meredith laughs and is about to say something, when Derek interjects good-naturedly, "Meredith is an only child. I don't think she's quite ever gotten to see a large family in action before."

"Oh then, we must have scared the bejeezes out of you last night. When I came in you were practically surrounded by Shepherds."

"Um...well...it was kind of..." Meredith rambles a little, not quite wanting to say that yes, she was scared of them, but wanting to tell the truth at the same time.

"She practically tore our room apart trying to get ready." Derek tells his mom, betraying her nervousness to the very woman that she is trying to impress.

"Derek!" She says with a kick to his leg under the table.

He doesn't seem recalcitrant though, only laughing and trying to get away from her as she punches him repeatedly in the shoulder.

His mother laughs too at her treatment of her son, and tells him, "I think as punishment you should be the one to check us out and bring the car around."

"Alright, I get the hint. I'll leave you two ladies to talk." He says as he throws his napkin on the table and gives his two favorite ladies a peck on the cheek.

His mother wants to talk to her alone? Oh boy. Okay, this is when the real Momma Shepherd is going to come out. She's going to warn her away from her son and tell her what she really thinks about her. She watches Derek's backside as he walks away, kind of straightening in her seat at actually being alone with his mother. She gives his mom as real a smile as she can, but it must not be enough, because Momma Shep immediately says, "It's alright Meredith, I just wanted to have a few minutes alone with you."

"A few minutes? Alone?" She asks nervously, fidgeting a little bit with the used napkin on her plate.

His mom takes a huge breath, and then looks away, before she turns her attention back to Meredith and says, "I just...I just wanted to thank you."

"Thank me?" Meredith answers in surprised disbelief.

"Yes, well, when I saw Derek last night, it made me realize just how unhappy he's been lately." She tries to explain.

Meredith tries to inject haltingly, "Well, I mean, with his father dying and all."

"No, no, I meant longer than that." Momma Shep says with a wave of her hand. "I mean, that didn't exactly make things better, but no, it was before that. It's...you know, I couldn't tell you how long it's been."

"He did mention a few things about his father." Meredith offers, not wanting to break Derek's confidence, but wanting to connect with this woman also.

"Ah, yes. No two people could be such different people and yet the same at the same time." She says reflectively, but then turns back to Meredith. "But that's not the point. I think Derek has always struggled to live up to his father's, well our entire families, image of who we want him to be, and yet still maintain a sense of himself."

Meredith doesn't know what to say, but she doesn't have to. "I can see it in your eyes that you know what I'm talking about. And yet when he walked into that room last night, he seemed to have..." Momma Shep says as she fishes around for the words. "Found himself. He just seems so happy. So comfortable with himself. And I think that him and I both have you to thank for that."

Momma Shep places her hand over Meredith's shocked hand and gives it a few pats for emphasis. "But I...I mean, I didn't." Meredith stutters, not able to put her head around what Derek's mom is telling her. "But I thought...I thought you would hate me. I mean...with the non-wedding and all."

"Oh honey, that wedding should have never happened, and we all knew it." Momma Shep qualifies. "I was more mad at that boy for waiting until the very last second, and putting us all through that mess, than anything you did."

"But I..." Is all Meredith can get out, the shock at Momma Shep's words such a shock to her that she can't think of a single thing to say. Her mouth just hangs open, until a single laugh escapes her throat and a single tear makes its way down her cheek. She looks at Momma Shep, and she starts to laugh and cry too. Until they are both laughing so hard that they don't even hear Derek walk up.

"And just what are my two most favorite ladies talking about?" Derek asks with a little bewildered smile.

Meredith wipes the tears from her eyes, and shares a glance with Momma Shep.

"Oh, nothing you would understand." Momma Shep answers with a little wink at Meredith. No, nothing he would understand at all. For only the two women who love him the most can at the same time share a laugh over his stupidity and a few tears of relief that the other loves him just as much.


	20. Chapter 20

**Title of chapter: prelude. I think that about says it all! Oh, and we get to meet Bailey ;-)**

Derek walks into the Dean of the Medical school's office, and says to the secretary, "I need to speak with the Dean, please."

"Do you have an appointment?" A petite middle-aged woman with straight nut-brown hair and 50's secretary glasses asks him from behind her desk.

"No, but I think that the Dean would like to hear what I have to say." Derek responds, as his eyes pass apprehensively to the closed wooden door from even his stance a few feet away he can here the very loud voice of a woman yelling at someone. "Well, she might not like to hear what I have to say, but she needs to hear it."

The secretary looks at him assessingly, and then decides something. "Well, as you can hear, she's on the phone with someone else right now. If you'd like to wait over there, I can see if she has some time for you after she gets off of the phone."

He looks over at the brown leather couch set against the opposite wall, and decides that he better wait. "Thank you." He says to the secretary with his best twinkling smile, and is rewarded by at least a glimmer of a smile and a slight blush from the woman.

Maybe his twinkling smile and other known charms will help him smooth things over with the woman inside the all-important University office, but somehow he doesn't think so. He plops down on the designated waiting area and rests his head against the back of the couch with a weary sigh. He would have been here earlier in the day, but it hadn't seemed fair to miss any more class than he had to. Hell, he might not even be teaching the class after today.

He looks from the glass front door on his left to the secretary directly in front of him (now back at work on her computer), and then to the door where his future lies. Everything had been going so wonderfully too. He had Meredith, he loved his job, and now his family liked Meredith too. He smiles just thinking about the scene he had walked into on the terrace restaurant yesterday. He didn't think his heart could hold any more happiness until he had seen his two favorite people in the world sharing a secret laugh over something they wouldn't even tell him about. His mom had even threatened bodily harm if he didn't bring Meredith to Thanksgiving!

The entire drive home had been a long one but a happy one, with both of them not able to stop themselves from sharing happy glances the entire way home. Meredith used the time to study, and he concentrated on the road, but not even stupid drivers and road construction could wipe the grin off of his face. His family liked her. His mom liked her. They knew every sordid detail, and they still liked her.

It had only taken two steps into Meredith's apartment and a five minute conversation with Christina to end that happy state, however.

_Derek carries Meredith's suitcase in one hand and her garment bag in the other as he follows Meredith into the front entryway. They are both pretty exhausted from the entire weekend ordeal, but he has an exam to write and Meredith has multiple exams to study for. He's just going to drop her bags off, and head back to the hotel, when Christina quietly walks out from the kitchen._

"_Hey guys, I...uh...need to talk to you about something." She says unsteadily as she holds the bottom of an almost-empty coffee mug._

"_Can it wait until tomorrow?" Meredith asks with a yawn. "I am just totally exhausted and still have mondo amounts of studying to do."_

_Meredith hasn't noticed the quiet way that Christina is standing there, but he has. It is totally unlike her. She usually barely acknowledges his existence or is bouncing from here to somewhere else. And she never stands nervously in a doorway._

_He puts down Meredith's bags, only to say to Meredith, "I think we might want to hear this right now."_

_Meredith looks up from rifling through her bag, takes a long look at his face, and then turns to look at Christina. "What's going on?" She asks worriedly, all interest in her bag forgotten._

_Christina finally takes a step forward and distractedly takes a seat at the end of the long green couch. Meredith's stuff is on the other end, so Meredith walks around and takes the catty corner love seat position. Derek doesn't want to sit, so he just rests his back against the fireplace that is opposite the green couch._

_Meredith and him stare at Christina in expectation of her announcement, but the only sound for a couple of minutes is the steady clicking of Christina's nails on the side of her coffee mug._

"_Christina!" Meredith finally orders with impatience._

"_You remember those many many weeks you spent in your apartment not answering the phone or using the internet or watching television?" Christina asks as she stares down at her now empty mug._

"_Yes." Meredith answers slowly, not taking her eyes off of Christina._

_His vision wanders back and forth between the two women, their two postures and the bringing up of what he knows is a very painful topic for Meredith, telling him that something is extremely wrong. He stays back against the fireplace though, not wanting to disrupt._

"_And you know how you were kind of happy that your mom wrecked your phone, because you didn't want to talk to the wider world anyway?" Christina continues._

_Derek only raises an eyebrow, but Meredith is reaching the end of her rope. "Christina." She warns again._

"_Well, I think you might want to do that again." Christina rapidly fires off again as she darts up from her chair and runs off to the kitchen. Meredith takes a shocked look at the now-empty couch, looks up at Derek, and then runs after her friend._

"_Christina Lee Yang, what the hell is going on?" He hears Meredith yell from the kitchen._

_He hears the shifting of the coffee pot moving around, and then a few hurried whispers. He's about to move from the fireplace, and satisfy his curiosity, when he hears a loud, "You have got to be kidding me!", followed by a few more hurried whispers, and then silence. He swiftly makes his way to the kitchen, thinking something really bad has happened. Maybe it's Meredith's mom. Maybe she had another spell or something. But when he gets closer, he hears a loud splutter, and his first site of the pair of them is both of them with their heads down on the tiny kitchen table, laughing their heads off._

_Okay, he is really confused now. "You got him drunk on strip poker?" Meredith sputters out between laughs, and then dies laughing even more when Christina just shakes her head in the affirmative._

"_Okay, can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" He asks when no one seems willing to share the joke._

_His voice is like a cold bucket of water on the proceedings. Both women raise their heads to look at each other, the laughter killed as quickly as it had been born. They both turn to face him._

"_We've been found out." Meredith tells him soberly, no trace of her former amusement, or earlier happiness. Only a vacant dread that scares him to no end._

After what must be at least an hour, the door to the office finally opens and a small but very powerful black woman walks out. She has on a very professional and obviously expensively tailored suit. Her hair is cut short into a face-shaping bowl, but you wouldn't call it anything feminine. Everything about her is exact and direct. One might even say she's even a little scary. But you don't get to be the Dean of the Medical School at Dartmouth University for being a nice guy. Or girl, in this situation.

She walks directly up to him, holds out her hand, and says very directly, "Dr. Shepherd, for what do I owe this pleasure?"

Derek shakes her hand with his most charming smile, but then looks wearily at the secretary before remarking, "Dr. Bailey, nice to see you again. I think what I have to say is for your ears only though."

Dr. Bailey raises an eyebrow and follows his eyesight to the secretary. She looks back at him assessingly for a couple of seconds, and then just as promptly as she came in, goes back into her office.

He's a little surprised by the non-communication, so he has to be prompted by the secretary with, "That means you should go in."

"Oh, thank you." He responds, gathering up his jack and briefcase.

The secretary flashes him an encouraging grin, but he hardly notices as he walks into the office and takes one of the chairs doubly set before the humongous mahogany desk. He places his things on the seat beside him, and watches Dr. Bailey close the door and take her seat like a queen holding court.

She places her hands on the massive desk. "So what is so important that you had to disrupt my entire schedule for? For your sake, it had better be good. I have better things to do than listen to overly-moussed professors and their petty complaints. It's not petty, is it?" She asks dampeningly.

"Uh, no, not petty at all." He says as he thinks about what he had learned last night. "It actually pertains to the University. I thought it only proper to inform you of a personal situation that may have an impact on the medical school."

Dr. Bailey kind of looks at him speculatively, cocking her head to the side at his carefully placed words and phrases. "Personal situation, you say? Would you care to expound on that?" She says, giving nothing aware as to her thoughts.

He shifts a little, knowing that what he is about to say can only come off as sounding very bad, very bad indeed. "Well, yes." He begins with a tiny pause. "I think you were aware of the personal issues that I was a party to earlier in the summer."

"Ah, yes, the double-dealing Duke or some such nonsense." She says with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I thought we had dealt with this issue at your time of hire. You would go by your professional title, and we would put the incident behind us."

He blushes at the insinuation, but must continue. "Yes, well, the incident seems to have followed me here." He expounds vaguely.

"Continue." Is all Dr. Bailey says, as she leans back in her massive leather straight-back chair.

"Yes, well, I think I should tell you the entire story. It'll make more sense that way." He says as he searches through his mind for the best way to relay what he has to relay.

"I'm waiting."

"Well, I think you know the story of my cancelled wedding." He offers, assuming that unless you lived under a rock, or in Meredith's case went into self-exile, you at least knew the particulars.

"Something about getting your hand caught in the cookie jar, was it?" Dr. Bailey asks flatly, not sounding particularly interested.

He coughs a little in embarrassment, but must continue. "Yes, well, it turns out that the cookie is a student at this University." He finally reveals.

She finally starts to look interested, sitting up in her seat, indicating that he should continue.

"In fact, she's a student in my class."

"And you were going to tell me this, when?" She asks, the infamous Nazi temper starting to boil beneath the surface.

"Meredith and I were actually..." He starts to say, when she cuts him off with, "Meredith and I? Just how well do you know this cookie, Dr. Shepherd?"

Well, this is now or never. "Actually, she's the love of my life." He answers truthfully.

This seems to knock Dr. Bailey back a few paces or two. The volcanic storm seems to leave her and is replaced by an inquiring gaze.

So he continues. "I had no idea she was a student here when I started. I took this job, in part, because I thought she was lost to me. I thoroughly enjoy this job; I can't tell you how much I appreciate the opportunity to work here. But if my personal actions are going to damage the Universities reputation, I thought it might be better for all involved if I remove myself from the Universities payroll."

Dr. Bailey thinks about what he has said, after a few minutes finally says, "And just how many people are aware of your relationship with this student?"

Ah, so this is where it's going to get sticky. "Well, right now only our friends and family. I only just returned from introducing my family to Meredith, when I was apprised of the news."

"And just what news would that be?"

"That pretty much the entire world shall know of our relationship by tomorrow."

* * *

Meredith looks down at her phone one more time, knowing that it will be Derek's number in the display again. She knows that he was going to talk to the Dean of the college today. He must have his answer by now. He was going to talk to Dr. Bailey right after class. She has already driven the two hours and change to make it to her mother's house in Boston. She just isn't quite ready to hear what he has to say. She has to do something first: she has to talk to her mother.

Meeting Derek's mother, well the entire family, had made her realize just how warped her relationship with her mother really was. She had first met Derek on a trip that was designed to get away from her mother's influence and figure out just what the hell she wanted out of her life. Ironically, losing Derek was what had given her the final impetus that she needed to break free from familial obligation and do what she wanted to do. She had seen what it had done to Derek.

She hadn't consulted her mother on her decision, only calmly informing the University of her Decision and moving forward with her plans to move to Dartmouth. The incident of the phone breakage being the result of her calmly marching over to her mother's townhouse to inform her of her decision. She realizes now that the more frequent bouts of anger and frustration might have been a product of her mother's Alzheimer's. Her mother had always been a strong influence in her life, and expected a lot from her, but she had never been physically violent.

The next time they had 'spoken' had literally been the night that Derek had had to intervene. The woman who's entire life was a surgical OR had not been allowed to set foot in one ever again. The hospital had had to be immediately notified of her diagnosis. They couldn't risk her going into one of her spells while operating, so she had been relegated to a quiet sabbatical and an eventual forced retirement. It was a lot to have to absorb and handle.

And now her only daughter was going to be famous again. Well, infamous would be a better description. Christina had been able to finagle a few details of the article, but the editor had been adamant in keeping the basic facts. They couldn't stop the article from being printed. Everything in it was technically true, so they couldn't argue defamation of character. Derek and her were ready to face the world, but she thought it only fair to notify her mother in person.

"Mom?" She calls out as she uses her own key to let herself in the front door.

"Meredith? Is that you?" Her mom calls from the kitchen. She can hear her voice coming closer as she says, "What are you doing here on a school day? Don't you have exams that you should be studying for?"

"No, exams aren't until next week. You're looking good, mom." She says as she notices a new energy and vibrancy around her mother. The last time she had seen her she had been withdrawn and despondent. She wonders what has caused the change.

"You did not come all the way from Boston to tell me how good I look." Her mother remarks after taking a hard look at Meredith and then without a by-your-leave, turns back around to walk back into the kitchen. "Spit it out. You haven't gotten kicked out already, have you?"

Yep, her mother is definitely back to her old self. She is not going to get in a screaming match today. She is going to tell her mother the news and then leave. So she follows her mother in the kitchen and says impatiently, "We haven't even had exams yet, mom."

"Well, I don't know. They could have made up some special reason." She says with a wave of her hand. "Why else would you have come down here on a Monday?"

"Maybe I just wanted to see how my mother is doing?" Meredith tries with an edge to her voice.

"Oh, cut the crap, Meredith. Just spit it out." Ellis spits out impatiently, hostility brimming just below the surface.

"Fine." Meredith answers just as bristly. "Yours truly is going to be in the paper tomorrow as an international home-wrecker/hussy that is having an affair with her professor. I just thought you should know. My face will probably be splashed on every news outlet as the supreme sluteth of the universe."

Her mother only stares back at her in extreme distaste, but for once in Meredith's life is too shocked to say anything. "Does that make you happy? Have I lived up to every once of your exalted expectations of me?" Meredith quips in a cold voice.

The barbed words seem to finally shake something in her mother. "Why are you telling me this? What is it that you want me to say?" Ellis asks in almost a frustrated hiss. "Do you want me to applaud you for your total lack of discretion? Do you want a pat on the back and an everything will be alright?

"I don't want you to say or do anything, mother." She tells her coldly, stressing the word mother in calm anger. "We love each other, and are willing to ride it out to be together."

Her mother once again too shocked to say anything. Those cold words used to mean so much to her. She would be lying if she didn't wish that just once that her mother would praise her instead of breaking her down. But at this moment in time, she doesn't care. She has a life of her own, she has a man that loves her, and for once she's confident that she's on the right path.

"I just thought you should know." Meredith finishes sagely, standing tall and proud before turning around to walk back out the door.

She is almost to the door, when she hears her mother's footsteps running swiftly over the polished wood.

"Meredith." Her mother calls simply as Meredith's hand is on the door.

She pauses to look back and sees for the first time the hard and lonely woman that is before her. This is no longer Ellis Grey the surgeon or Ellis Grey the mother. This is a woman that has reached the end of her life, to find that she has no one. "You should visit when all of this nonsense dies down."

Meredith knows that that is all she is going to get from her mother, but somehow it is enough. She nods her head once in agreement and shuts the door.


	21. Chapter 21

Derek and Meredith both awake from sleep at the exact same moment. Or who's to say whether one had moved slightly, and the other had awoken. Neither one had slept very well with the anxieties of the day to come. Derek had been all prepared to be mad at Meredith when she had shown up at his hotel rather late last night after ignoring his phone calls all afternoon and evening. One look at her face when he had answered the door had told him a few unanswered phone calls were the least of their problems though. He let her in, where she immediately tossed her bag next to the nearest chair and sat in the chair with her exhausted head in her hands.

_He doesn't even ask where she has been, he just approaches her and tells her "come on" as he leads her over to the bed. She hardly moves as he takes off her shirt and pants and puts her under the covers. He has already put his pajamas on and was preparing for bed when she had shown up. He scoots in next to her and pulls her into his nook. He doesn't say anything. He just waits for her to speak._

"_I went to see my mother." She finally says._

"_You did?" He asks with wonder, knowing how hard that must have been for her._

"_I wanted to tell her in person." She says as her gaze remains firmly on his chest. Her hand comes up to lazily rub against his chest. "I wanted to tell you. But you were in with the dean, and then I didn't want to know. I should have called you." She says, finally looking up at the last sentence._

"_It's alright." He says as he looks into her eyes and sees just what kind of day she's had. It's not like he didn't have just as tough of a day, but he also has a supportive family that he has been on the phone with all afternoon. He rubs the hair away from her face and asks, "How did she take it?"_

_Meredith is silent for a while, and then very hesitantly says, "Surprisingly well."_

"_Really?" He asks in surprise._

"_She asked me to come visit her when everything had died down a bit." Meredith tells him, the surprise still evident in her voice._

_The mention of tomorrow makes them both reflect for a minute. They really have no idea what to expect. Christina was able to get some bare facts from Alex, but the rest is up in the air. They had told their respective family and friends, but how the rest of the world was going to react was a total unknown._

_That reminds Meredith. "So how did it go?" She asks, obviously referring to his meeting with the Dean._

"_Surprisingly well." He answers the surprise evident in his voice also. "I obviously can't keep teaching the class, and I think you might have to re-take it, but Dr. Bailey was quite receptive to the idea of a very generous anonymous donation made out to the Medical School."_

_Meredith absorbs the information. "Just how generous are we talking here?" She asks with no small amount of trepidation._

"_Let's just say that Dr. Bailey's dreams of a fully functional free clinic can now be realized." Derek answers with apparent irony._

"_Oh." Meredith is quick to answer, not sure of what else to say._

_They lie there in silence for a few more minutes, comfortable in the space of each other's arms, before Derek offers, "You know, you don't have to do this with me if you don't want to. I've been through this before; I know what it's like. It might be a bit much."_

_Meredith looks up into his eyes and they stare at each other assessingly. "I am not leaving you this time. We are going to go through this together. You got that?" She tells him forcefully._

_He smiles a little smile, and kisses the top of her head before he answers, "I've got it."_

"_Good." She says as she cuddles more securely into his chest. _

_They cuddle together, preparing to drift off to sleep, when Derek says feelingly, "I love you, Meredith."_

"_I love you too, Derek." She answers just as feelingly, and they both drift off to sleep_.

But now it is the next morning, and they both groggily awake to a knocking on the door. They stare at each other wide-eyed, knowing it is the man he has hired to bring them the magazine as soon as it hit stands. Derek gets out of bed, pulling on one the hotel's robes, and answers the door.

Meredith hears the low rumble of voices as Derek greets the man. Then the magazine is handed over, an exchange of money is made, and Derek comes back to bed. There is a very large photo-shopped picture of the infamous photo of them on the cover with the bold letters of "Caught" sprawled across the page. Derek flips to the appropriate page, and finds:

**Caught!**

**(I originally had an article that detailed the whole sordid affair in a very bad light. Unfortunately, photobucket ate it! You can still see it, but the words are too small to read. If you'd like to see it, PM me and I'll send you the links. This makes me very very sad. You'll just have to infer what was said. Sorry!)**

They both kind of stare at the article for a second, absorbing the words on the page. Derek is the first to speak with, "Well, that's not as bad as I thought it was going to be."

"Yeah." Meredith kind of says in a daze.

After a couple moments of silence, Derek asks, "Are we really that loud?"

Meredith looks over at the puzzled look on Derek's face. That is what he's concerned about? "Well, you are." She responds automatically, not able to bite back the smile that graces her features.

"I am, am I?" Derek says with a mischievous grin as he starts to tickle her with his hands and rub his scruff all over her exposed chest.

She can't help laughing at the tickling, squirming to get away. The magazine is forgotten, rolling to the side as they both laugh and participate in the love play. Derek is about to slide his hands up further for some real love play, when his cell phone rings. He's told the Inn to direct all of his phone calls through his public relations firm, and the only person that has his cell phone number is his family, so it must be important.

He reluctantly slides away from Meredith and looks at the number on the phone: his sister, Kathleen.

"Hey sis, what's up?" He asks without preamble.

"I think you better turn on the news." His sister says.

He's suddenly alert. Meredith lays there looking at him as he grabs the remote and turns on the television.

"Just what am I looking for?" He asks Kathleen as he flips channels.

"Good Morning America."

"Oh boy." Is his first response, not realizing it was going to be spread so fast so soon.

"I don't think it's going to be as bad as you think it is." His sister responds mysteriously.

"What do you mean?" He asks.

"Just watch." She answers with a decidedly chipper voice before hanging up. What the?

He turns to the appropriate channel, while Meredith asks him, "What was that about?"

"I don't know. She just said to turn the television on." He answers as they both turn to watch the people on the screen.

They are both shocked to discover Addison sitting in the GMA visitor's chair. She looks polished and professional in a light blue suit that has a decided feminine twist to it. Her hair is pulled back in a decidedly soft chignon arrangement that is quick to soften her features. She looks calm and collected, but to anyone that knew her like Derek did, she was pumped and primed for battle.

"Good morning everyone. We are here today with a very intriguing guest. Sitting before me is Addison Forbes-Montgomery, soon to be Sloan, that was the jilted bride of this summer's biggest scandal." The GMA reporter says from her chair, introducing Addison to the television viewing audience.

The camera pans to Addison, who sits silently while the reporter finishes her intro. "Ms. Forbes-Montgomery is here today because of a new development in the story. A new article has been published in this week's US weekly, that professes to know the identity of the mystery woman that set this whole debacle in motion. But that isn't why you are here today, is it?"

"No, Linda, it isn't." Addison replies succinctly.

"Would you care to tell our viewers what you told me earlier today?" The reporter, Linda, asks in the prepared format.

The camera pans back over to Addison, who simply responds, "Yes, I came here today to once and for all set the record straight. I kept quiet before because Derek asked me to. I am not saying what he did made me happy, or was right, but I can't sit back and watch him be maligned again for something that was not entirely his fault."

"Could you elaborate on that?"

Their eyes are glued to the set, as she says, "Derek may have cheated, but so did I. And long before anything he did with anyone in Rome."

Meredith sucks in her breath and turns to Derek. "Did you know about this?" She demands.

"The day you left me, I caught the two of them in bed." He answers absently as he tries to absorb what is happening.

She wants to question him some more, but Addison is still talking. "I am not condoning what he did. I am not trying to make excuses. But I am sick of the media assuming they know his character by this one act. I have known Derek practically all of my life. He is a good man." Addison says with feeling.

The reporter tries to interrupt her, but she keeps going. "In fact, I would like to thank the photographer who took that picture. If it wasn't for him, we might be married right now and miserable. I have found happiness with my fiancé, and I wish Derek all the same. Thank you." She says and then does the unheard of thing of standing up, removing the microphone, and walking off the set.

* * *

Meredith and Derek stare at each other in shock. The reporter is still talking.

"And there you have it. Addison Forbes-Montgomery defending her former fiancé." She says, before continuing with, "This on top of the heart-felt letter accompanying the article."

Meredith looks at Derek, and then hurriedly grabs the magazine from where it had fallen at the bed. She opens it to the afore-mentioned article, and then turns the page:

**(There was also a letter from Christina that just supported Mer and Der's right to privacy and questioning what lengths anyone would go to for love.)**

* * *

"Oh, Christina." Meredith says as she finishes reading the article. She tries to wipe away the tears at the corner of her eyes, but it's no use; they keep on falling.

Derek has been reading over her shoulder, and takes her in his arms when she starts wiping at her eyes. He's a little misty-eyed himself to tell the truth.

"Were you really that depressed, Meredith? You didn't tell me." He says as he wipes the hair away from her face and leans his head on top of hers.

She leans her head on his chest, sniffling a bit as she absently rubs her hand across his chest. "I didn't….it didn't seem that important." She finally answers after a little sniffle.

"Of course it's important." He says as he continues to stroke her hair. "The only thing that kept me going all those weeks was the thought that I would find you at the end of them. When I thought I had lost you, you might as well have stuck a knife in my heart and it would have hurt less."

Meredith is silent, absorbing the information. She thought she had been pathetic. She thought by leaving him, she was giving him what he wanted. But they had both been so miserable. There were so many what-ifs that could have saved them all of their heart-ache, decisions made by the both of them that had kept them apart. It seemed a miracle that they had even found each other. They lie there, just holding onto each other; thankful just to be in each other's arms. For whatever happens, whatever life puts in their way, they now have each other. And that means a lot.

Suddenly, there's a knock on the door. "Oh, that must be breakfast." Derek says as he jumps to answer the door. Not without placing a kiss on her forehead though. "I ordered it last night so that we'd be sure to have a good breakfast."

Derek and his good breakfast, Meredith thinks as he flashes her a grin on his way to the door. Breakfast does sound good. She had been so worked up about everything yesterday that she hadn't really thought to eat anything. But now that Addison had declared to the world that she wished them well and her best friend had done the most unselfish thing she thought possible, who cared what anybody else thought. She had Derek. She had Christina. She was going to medical school. She had to take neuroscience over, but that was a small price to pay. Derek got to keep his neurosurgeon job. And her mom had even asked her visit her. Life was good.

She had almost forgotten about the article, when she sees Dr. Bailey on the television. Derek had put it on mute when they had gone to read the article, but Meredith quickly fishes around for the remote and turns the volume on. She can see Dr. Bailey on a podium shuffling around some notes, but she hasn't started talking yet.

An announcer from the local station announces, "Dr. Bailey, Dean of Dartmouth medical school is about to make a statement. There are stark allegations being made in this week's edition of US Weekly that a professor at Dartmouth has been having inappropriate relations with one of his students. The best friend of the student…a Meredith Grey…published a glowing tribute to her friend in the same issue. And the former fiancé of one Dr. Shepherd admitted fault in the dissolution of their engagement. But that still doesn't answer the question of what the University's decision shall be. This is a serious offense. Most universities have protocols and strict guidelines about these sorts of things."

Derek had let the room service guy in with the food cart, but they had both stopped in disbelief when they had seen who was on the television. Well, Derek had stopped at the site of Dr. Bailey, and the room service guy had stopped when he saw that the two people in the room closely resembled the picture that kept being flashed over the television screen. Derek snaps out of it long enough to sign for the food and practically has to kick out the gawking food service employee.

The food lies forgotten as he joins Meredith back on the bed, both eyes glued to the screen.

"Yes, yes, I'm the Dean of the Medical School." She responds in answer to one of the reporters, practically waving him off. "People are just too nosy for their own good." She mumbles to herself as she gathers her cards together and begins to speak:

"I, Dr. Miranda Bailey, as representative of the Dartmouth Medical School, announce to the world at large that you are all idiots. Dr. Shepherd came to me weeks ago, when he discovered that one Meredith Grey was in his class."

Meredith and Derek quickly give each other a look of disbelief, but then turn back to the screen.

"Miss Grey was informed week's ago that she would be re-taking the class, but chose to attend lectures anyway in order to further her education. If only the rest of our students were that dedicated. We have been searching for a replacement lecturer, but these things take time, and we did not want to deprive our students of their class time. All of this could have been prevented if the reporter who had written this article had done his job first and come to the medical school. Everyone at the University has agreed that it was a private matter between two mature individuals, and could be handled internally. I thank you for your time. Good day." She says with an official nod and leaves.

All of the reporters keep trying to ask questions, but it is no use. She has gone back to her job. Meredith and Derek no longer see the television though. They are completely stunned.

"I guess Dr. Bailey really appreciated the free clinic you bought her." Meredith answers glibly.

"I guess so." Derek agrees.


	22. Chapter 22

_Epilogue One_

And as they watch the television that day, more and more of their friends and relatives show up on the news supporting them as good people that just happened to fall in love at the wrong time. As they are munching on French toast, Derek's mother calls in to GMA. She only repeats the same things that she said to them at dinner, but to Meredith and Derek it means the world to have her announce it on national television.

The media has a field day tearing the entire story apart. The old scandal is brought back up, sides picked on pundit shows, and people interviewed in the street. Students from Meredith and Derek's class are interviewed, girls gushing over how they had known all the time that something was going on. I mean, how could you not see the loving looks and heat between them (followed by many eye rolls)? Employees at the resort in Sperlonga are interviewed, gushing (by translator) at just how in love the couple had seemed this past summer. Even George and Isobel call in to say how they had known it was love at first site when Derek had carried in a sleeping Meredith in his arms.

The entire tale comes out. How they had met in Rome: Derek traveling around before his wedding and Meredith on her graduation trip. About how Meredith had a boyfriend at the time, but left him at the airport (Finn was never found to interview). That they had spent a week together, but then parted to leave Derek to his wedding and Meredith to her life back in the States. But then through the mechanizations of a greedy photographer, it is suddenly a world-wide phenomenon. Somehow fate intervened, and Derek ends up teaching at the same University as Meredith. This is the point in the story that all of the women reporters usually sigh at. That they find each other again.

Derek and Meredith watch all of this unfold on the television. Their entire story is picked apart and debated and pored over. Derek has been through this before, so it doesn't bother him too much. But the fact that the truth is out there, that all of their friends and family have stood up for them, wipes the rest of the embarrassment away. When they must emerge from their hotel room the next day, people stop them in the street to tell them how wonderful it is that they have found each other. The media calls it the most romantic story they have ever heard. Then one day they get a call from Oprah.

* * *

"We have today two very special guests today." Oprah says into the camera as she sits in her designated stage chair. "They are Dr. Derek Shepherd, also known as the Duke of Savoy and his girlfriend, Ms. Meredith Grey." 

She smiles into the camera, flashing the audience a happy grin. "The media is calling their story the most romantic story of the century. Stories have been published about them, practically all of their friends and family have been interviewed, but no one has yet to hear from the happy couple themselves. I have invited them here today so that they can share their story with us, and they have been kind enough to agree. I give you Dr. Derek Shepherd and Meredith Grey." Oprah says from her chair as she stands up and sweeps her arms toward stage right.

Derek walks out, casual in nice jeans, light blue shirt, and dark blazer. Meredith holds his hand, bowing her head away from the audience like one not used to the lime-light. She looks very cute in a semi-matching short-sleeved light-blue blouse and dark-blue trouser and vest set. They walk toward Oprah, smiling and waving to the audience as they walk out, but both are obviously nervous and a little shy.

But as they walk up to Oprah, she gives them both very effusive hand-shakes and indicates for them to sit down. This entire time, the audience has been clapping glee-fully, and they don't want to stop. Derek and Meredith do sit, Meredith on the side toward Oprah with them pressed up together in the middle of the couch, their thighs touching in comfort. They look out on the clapping audience and can't help but look embarrassed and happy.

The clapping eventually dies down, and Oprah says to Derek, "Dr. Shepherd."

"Oprah." He answers with a little sparkly grin.

"Ms. Grey. Or may I call you Meredith?" Oprah asks Meredith, scooting forward on her chair like they are just chatting away in her own living room.

"Meredith is fine." Meredith answers back, a little reserved but happy all the same. Derek squeezes her hand.

Oprah looks down at the clasped hands, and says smilingly, "Thank you for coming on the show today. I know you've been through quite an ordeal this year, and I thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule."

"Well, when Oprah calls, you just kind of show up." Derek kids and the rest of the audience laughs.

"Yes, well, I could understand if you never wanted to turn on the television ever again, let alone do an interview. So I truly do thank you for coming today." Oprah offers again, with a very understanding smile. If anyone knows the power of the media, or the feeling of being in a media swirl, it is Oprah.

"Well, there have been so many stories swirling around, so many things said, that we thought it was only fair that we get to give our side of things." Derek offers seriously, but then adds jokingly, "And, yes, well, it is Oprah."

"Well, that brings me to my first question. When all of this broke this past summer, you were very mum in not talking to the media. You released a simple statement saying that." Oprah says but then stops to look at her notes. "The split was amicable, and that you hoped everyone could just move on with their lives. Do you regret making such a statement? Do you think you should have defended yourself more vigorously? I mean, there were a lot of very strong statements made about you."

Derek sighs, but plows forward. "I really believed those sentiments at the time. I still believe in them. And I didn't defend myself, because, well, I felt like I deserved it."

You can just hear the audience just sigh along with him. This is a man that cheated on his fiancé, but he is obviously very sorry about it. Meredith squeezes his hand to let him know that it is okay, and he gives her a thankful but sad face.

Oprah has to do her job though, so she says, "And that is all well and good. But a lot of people would ask, why even do it in the first place? If that photograph hadn't been released, you might be married to your former finance right now."

"Actually, I wouldn't have been." Derek says with a nervous crossing of his legs. "Meredith wasn't just a fling. She woke me up. She made me realize just how wrong things were with Addison. I was on my way to tell Addison that I couldn't marry her when that photograph was released."

The entire audience gasps, but Oprah is much more of a professional than that. She turns to Meredith, asking, "And you had no idea about any of this? You had already gone home by this time?"

"Um…yeah…I had left on the plane that morning." Meredith stutters a little bit.

Their hands clench tighter at the remembered bad times, but Oprah continues on. "Where your friend says that you were so depressed, you didn't leave your apartment for three weeks? That you didn't turn on the major news channels, go on the internet, or call anyone for fear of hearing the news?"

Meredith looks embarrassed, but answers, "Yes."

Oprah turns to Derek. "And you knew none of this?"

"No." He answers sadly.

"And just what were you doing during this time?" She asks Derek.

"I was looking for her." He answers simply, but then back-tracks. "Well, I was being hounded by the media from country to country as I tried to finish up meeting my father's business contact. But mainly, I was just finishing up my responsibilities so that I could come back to the states and find Meredith again."

"And you had no idea that he was looking for you? You already thought he was married?" Oprah says to Meredith.

Meredith takes a big breath, and answers, "Yes."

"And just what was going through your mind at this time? You had had this affair with a man who was supposedly about to be married, and now you were left alone. What made you get up and finally leave your apartment?"

"My friend, Christina." Meredith answers. Derek and her share a happy look, then Meredith answers, "I don't know what I would have done without Christina."

"And this was when you decided to go to medical school?"

"Yes, I…" Meredith answers, flashing a look at Derek under her lashes before answering, "I had partially gone to Rome to decide whether I wanted to go to medical school or not. My mother is a surgeon, and I wasn't sure if I had what it took to go that route."

They both know that this is a partial lie, but the rest of the world doesn't need to know all of their dirty laundry. "And what made you finally decide to go that route?" Oprah asks as the audience listens in rapt fascination.

Meredith squeezes Derek's hands and says, "A very wise man once told me that I would never know unless I tried."

"Very good advice." Oprah agrees. "And very lucky that you did go. Did you have idea when you went to Dartmouth that Dr. Shepherd was going to be there?" She asks Meredith in her best friendly reporter tone.

Meredith is about to reply, but Derek cuts her off with, "No that was a decision that I made long after we had parted."

"So you never did find her then?" Oprah asks, swiveling a little to address Derek.

"Well, yes I did, but I didn't think she wanted me." Derek says, seeing that Oprah wants to ask him another question, but he cuts her off with a genial smile and says, "Let's just say I was an idiot and leave it at that."

Oprah doesn't like to be thwarted, so she gives him a little look, but she doesn't press. "So, okay. Meredith, you are starting medical school. Derek, it is the first day of class." She says more to the audience than them. "You walk in and there the both of you are. Let's make this interesting. Tell me what the other person did."

Derek turns to Meredith and laughingly says, "You cried out 'shit' and sat in the back of the room for the entire hour."

You can see the smiles on the face of the audience. "Well, you glared at me." Meredith retorts back. At that, the audience can't help but laugh. They are just too cute together.

"So let me get this straight, you hated each other?" Oprah asks disbelievingly.

"No, that wasn't until after you called me a whore." Meredith ribs him, for the first time relaxing a little into the interview. The audience gasps.

"I did not." He answers back immediately, but then back-tracks with, "When did I do that?"

"When I came to your office. You said I was just another number in your grade book." Meredith says with raised eyebrows.

"Oh, yeah." Derek answers, chagrined. "Well…yeah…that was part of me being an idiot."

Even Oprah is laughing at this point. "So how did you go from that to the obviously loving couple we see today?"

"We started to find out the truth about each other. About what had happened to the other." Meredith answers with a loving smile directed at Derek.

"And then it all just kind of fell into place." Derek agrees, smiling back at her in the same way.

"Well, I have one final question for you too. There's one thing that I've never heard asked, which surprises me to no end. Just how exactly did you two meet?"

Meredith and Derek look at each other smilingly, not sure who should go first.

"Derek was getting a sun-bath on the Spanish steps…" Meredith answers with a happy twinkle to her eye.

"Yeah, and you woke me up with your big bag and your foul language." He answers back with just as much of a twinkle.

"You can't fool me. Richard told me about you and your Spanish women." Meredith teases, the obvious love she has for him shining in her happy visage.

"Yes, but he never warned me about Sleeping Beauties." He teases back, basking in her love and returning the favor.

"Well, no one ever told me about Dastardly Dukes, either." Meredith responds, and the whole audience sighs. Was that even Oprah shedding a tear? I think so.

* * *

**(Epilogue 2 was a NY Times announcement detailing that Meredith and Derek got married at the resort in Sperlonga. Christina was the maid of honor and Mark was the best man. Meredith ended up doing her residency in neurosurgery at Mt. Sinai in NY. I think Derek was either chief there or at another hospital. They founded a foundation that looks into the causes of Alzhiemer's that Derek's mom oversees.)**

* * *

**My inspiration for this fic: 'Unintended' by Muse**

**You could be my unintended**

**Choice to live my life extended**

**You could be the one I'll always love**

**You could be the one who listens to my deepest inquisitions**

**You could be the one I'll always love**

**I'll be there as soon as I can**

**But I'm busy mending broken pieces of the life I had before**

**First there was the one who challenged**

**All my dreams and all my balance**

**She could never be as good as you**

**You could be my unintended**

**Choice to live my life extended**

**You should be the one I'll always love**

**I'll be there as soon as I can**

**But I'm busy mending broken pieces of the life I had before**

**I'll be there as soon as I can**

**But I'm busy mending broken pieces of the life I had before**

**Before you**


End file.
